HILLHOUSE'S  ORATION, 


IN 


COMMEMORATION 


OF 


LAFAYETTE. 


AN 


ORATION, 


at  3iefo  f^afcen, 

BY    REQUEST    OF 

THE    COMMON    COUNCIL, 

.% 

AUGUST  19,  1834, 


IN  COMMEMORATION  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  SERVICES 


OF 


GENERAL  LAFAYETTE. 




BY  JAMES  A.  HILLHOUSE. 


NEW  HAVEN: 

PUBLISHED  BY  H.  HOWE  &  CO. 
1834. 


„ 


t 

New  Haven,  Sept.  3d,  1834. 

Dear  Sir — I  have  the  pleasure  of  communicating  to  you  the  following 
resolutions : — 

"At  a  court  of  Common  Council  of  the  city  of  New  Haven,  held  on  the 
2d  day  of  Sept.  1834— 

"  Voted,  That  this  court  tender  their  acknowledgments  to  James  A.  Hill- 
house,  Esq.,  for  the  eloquent  Address  delivered  by  him  in  commemoration 
of  the  life  and  services  of  Gen.  LAFAYETTE,  on  the  day  before  Commence- 
ment, by  appointment  of  this  board. 

"  Voted,  That  the  Mayor  be  a  committee  to  request  from  him  a  copy  of 
the  Address,  for  publication. 

"  Voted,  That  the  committee  who  were  appointed  to  address  the  family 
of  Gen.  LAFAYETTE  in  behalf  of  the  city  authorities,  be  requested  to  transmit 
to  them,  in  the  name  of  the  Common  Council,  copies  of  Mr.  Hillhouse's  Ad- 
dress, when  published.  Certified  by  ELISHA  MUNSOX,  City  Clerk." 

Allow  me  to  add  my  individual  solicitation,  that  your  Address  be  given 
to  the  public.  With  great  respect,  your  obedient  servant, 

HENRY  C.  FI.AGG,  Mayor. 
James  A.  Hillhouse,  Esq. 


Yale  College,  Aug.  20,  1834. 

By  appointment  of  the  Phi  Beta  Kappa,  we  have  the  honor  to  offer  to 
you,  in  their  behalf,  the  thanks  of  the  Society  for  your  Oration  of  the  19th 
inst.,  and  to  request  a  copy  for  publication. 

Respectfully,  your  obedient  friends, 

DENISON  OLMSTED. 
R.  S.  BALDWIN. 
James  A.  Hillhouse,  Esq.  A.  N.  SKINNER. 


THE  idea  of  substantiating  by  notes  several  of  the  following 
statements,  suggested  itself.  But  ampler  and  abler  illustra- 
tions of  this  great  and  good  man's  life,  will  doubtless  soon 
be  before  the  public.  It  is  a  subject  worthy  of  elevated 
genius ;  and  one  on  which  certain  arrogant  writers  require 
refutation  and  rebuke.  I  am  not  conscious  of  having  com- 
promised the  literal  truth,  by  a  single  assertion,  phrase,  or 
epithet,  in  these  pages.  Authorities  can  be  cited  not  only  for 
every  fact,  but  in  justification  of  the  moral  importance  at- 
tached to  the  facts.  The  substance  of  one  remark,  that 
namely,  on  page  13,  relative  to  the  "extent"  of  our  obli- 
gations to  Lafayette,  I  recently  received  from  an  intelligent 
friend,  and  believe  to  be  entitled  to  entire  credit. 

Highwood,  Sept.  5th,  1834. 


2012191 


ORATION. 


Fellow  Citizens,  and 

Gentlemen  of  the  Phi  Beta  Kappa : 

To  interpret  the  characters  of  illustrious  men  is  one  of  the 
critical  offices  of  history.  Insufficient,  or  conflicting  testimony, 
and  the  deceptive  lights  of  prejudice  and  passion,  render  it, 
often,  a  task  of  painful  scrutiny.  But,  from  time  to  time,  exam- 
ples of  public  virtue  occur,  clear,  unequivocal,  inexplicable  on 
any  other  than  noble  principles ;  and  the  convictions  and  hom- 
age of  mankind  become  universal.  Happily,  in  the  present 
instance,  we  are  not  called  upon  to  exercise  a  jealous  scepti- 
cism. Wherever  the  pulse  of  freedom  beats,  wherever  the 
victims  of  oppression  bleed,  the  name  of  Lafayette  is  pronoun- 
ced with  benedictions. 

Let  it  not  seem  strange  to  say,  that  we  are  assembled  on  a 
happy  occasion.  We  are  come  to  indulge  emotions  sweet  and 
salutary,  to  revive  grateful  recollections,  to  number  up  our  ob- 
ligations, and  to  praise  one  of  the  chief  Fathers  that  begat  us. 
Nothing  connected  with  it  need  suggest  a  painful  or  reproachful 
thought — we  are  all  equally  interested  in  the  benefit  and  the 
recompense,  and  we  can  look  on  both  with  unmingled  pleasure. 
To-day,  there  are  no  distinctions — whether  citizens  or  schol- 
ars— by  whatever  name  distinguished — to  whatever  sect  or 
creed  attached, — our  hearts  must  beat  in  grateful  unison.  For 
once,  our  consciences  are  clean,  and  our  robes  are  white : — No 
enemy,  as  we  stand  about  his  tomb,  can  taunt  us  with  ingrati- 
tude to  our  Benefactor.  He  is  gone ;  but  honoured  as  no  other 
ever  was,  he  has  passed,  spotless,  through  his  great  ordeal ; 
alway  proving  himself  the  pure,  simple,  consistent  friend,  and 
ardent  advocate,  of  the  rights  of  his  fellow  creatures.  We 


come  up  therefore  with  a  solemn  joy,  to  hang  our  garlands  on 
his  urn,  and  to  speak  of  his  usefulness  and  glory. 

When  the  history  of  our  ancestors  is  examined,  subsequently 
to  their  arrival  on  this  continent,  to  say  nothing  of  prior  causes, 
it  seems  to  have  issued  in  natural  results.  We  look,  without 
surprise,  at  the  stern  jealousy  of  liberty,  which  became  an  early 
and  striking  manifestation  of  their  character.  A  nation  sprung 
from  a  few  scattered  religious  congregations  self-planted  in  the 
wilderness ;  sustained,  from  the  outset,  by  the  sweat  of  each 
brow,  and  defended  by  the  valour  of  each  arm,  would  naturally 
look  with  microscopic  eyes  at  the  minutest  infringement  of  indi- 
vidual right.  The  common  sentiment  would  be,  we  have  toil- 
ed, fought,  sacrificed,  hoped,  feared,  alike — we  are  therefore 
equal.  We  abandoned  the  safeguard  of  government  for  civil 
and  religious  liberty ;  we  owe  our  preservation  and  increase  to 
no  protector — we  are  therefore  free.  These  sentiments  are  the 
obvious  result  of  their  peculiar  circumstances.  When  therefore 
foreign  cupidity  looked  toward  the  harvests  which  began  to 
decorate  these  fields,  and  claimed  first-fruits  of  what  the  Pil- 
grims, alone,  had  laboured  to  rear,  and  suffered  to  defend,  it  is 
not  strange  that  the  very  Genius  of  the  land  rose  up.  The 
Fathers  of  these  States  were  born,  and  reared  in  this  spirit : 
They  drew  in  with  the  breath  of  life,  the  breath  of  liberty. 

But  how  came  Gilbert  Motier  Lafayette  instructed  in  the 
Freeman's  creed  ?  His  young  heart  was  not  moulded  at  the 
fire  sides  of  New  England : — he  was  not  born  in  that  old  Bay 
State,  so  fatal,  by  day  and  by  night,  to  all  presumption ; — the 
untamed  blood  of  Pocahontas  mingled  not  in  his  veins : — mater- 
nal lips  never  touched  his  sympathies  by  recitals  of  the  hopes, 
fears,  faith,  and  constancy  of  the  little  band  who  gazed  from 
the  deck  of  the  Mayflower  at  the  receding  shores  of  England, 
and,  afterwards,  with  no  stay  but  God,  stepped  from  the  winter 
sea  upon  the  inhospitable  rock  of  Plymouth :— the  pains  of  non- 
conformity had  never  driven  him  or  his  fathers  to  scrutinize  the 
foundations  of  authority: — he  did  not  learn  the  doctrine  of 
Equal  Rights  in  the  Text  Book  of  the  Pilgrims.  When  the 


future  Patriots  of  the  revolution  were  following  their  fathers  to 
the  harvest  field,  young  Lafayette  was  surrounded  with  attend- 
ance and  observance  as  the  precious  orphan  of  a  noble  house  in 
an  old  and  ceremonious  monarchy.  While  they  were  learning 
at  the  school-house,  and  meeting-house,  the  duties  of  freemen, 
and  Puritans,  he  was  acquiring  the  accomplishments  of  a  preux 
chevalier  at  the  college  of  Louis  le  Grand,  or  was  imbibing  in 
French  palaces  devotion  to  beauty  and  royalty,  as  the  page  of 
Marie  Antoinette. 

Connected,  by  historic  recollections,  with  all  the  haughty  as- 
sumption of  the  feudal  day,  every  illusion  of  transmitted  glory 
and  aristocratic  pride,  seemed  to  conspire  with  a  generous  and 
fearless  spirit,  to  develope  in  him  the  character  of  a  gallant 
French  Nobleman.  Married  at  seventeen  to  an  heiress  of  the 
illustrious  and  powerful  house  of  Noailles,  and  raised  ere  nine- 
teen, to  the  rank  of  a  commissioned  officer,  he  seemed  in  the 
very  morning  of  life  to  possess  all  that  nature  and  fortune  can 
bestow.  Personal  distinction  alone  was  wanting  ;  and  the  path 
of  honour  lay  open  before  him,  attended  with  no  other  diffi- 
culties than  those  which  make  it  honourable. 

Surrounded  with  objects,  opinions  and  observances,  calculated 
to  dazzle  and  deceive,  with  every  feudal  and  French  prejudice 
bound  thick  upon  his  eyes,  by  what  external  illumination,  or 
internal  impulse,  did  his  youthful  mind  discover  the  bearings  of 
human  rights  ?  What  causes  called  into  life,  and  nourished  the 
embryo  of  those  principles,  which  at  last  found  vent  in  the  sur- 
prising act  of  devoting  himself  to  the  achievement  of  American 
Independence  ?  These  questions  we  cannot  answer ;  for  his 
initiation  in  the  faith  seems  as  independent  of  the  instructions  of 
those  who  were  his  elders,  and  subsequently,  his  brethren,  as 
that  of  Paul  himself,  who  tells  us  that  he  "  conferred  not  with 
flesh  and  blood." 

Suddenly,  among  the  anxious  proscribed  Patriots,  who  had 
commenced  the  great  labour  of  establishing  human  liberty,  ap- 
pears from  another  hemisphere,  a  youthful  and  noble  stran- 
ger— not  as  a  pupil,  but  an  equal — ardent  as  themselves — 


8 

clear-sighted, — well-instructed — resolved  to  hazard  all  in  their 
despised  and  doubtful  cause  !     That  resolution — if  he  had  per- 
ished on  the  sea — if  he  had  fallen  by  the  first  shot — ought 
to  have  made  his  name  sweet  in  every  Freeman's  mouth,  while 
Freedom  shall  endure.     But  it  was  not  suffered  to  be  un- 
fruitful.    Its  consequences,  as  developed  in  our  history,  are 
great — to  France  they  have  been  momentous — and  they  prom- 
ise to  be  active,  and,  we  fear,  needful,  for  centuries  to  come. 
For  after  all  that  has  been  done  to  diffuse  the  light  of  free 
institutions,  the  darkness  of  middle   night  hangs  over  much 
of  Europe.     Watchful  eyes  see  indeed  from  the  Rhine  toward 
the   Cimmerian  borders,  hill-top  after  hill-top  greyly  emerge, 
and  slowly  redden — and  they  cling  to  hope;  and  wisely,  for  the 
seeds  of  constitutional  liberty  are,  in  fact,  beneath  the  soil  of 
many  a  spot,  on  whose  surface  no  promise  yet  appears.     The 
American  traveller  finds   the  German,    yea,  the   Prussian — 
though  haughty  and  reserved  while  mistaking  him  for  a  Briton — 
if  made  aware  of  his  errour,  start  into  cordiality.    Frankness  and 
pleasure  beam  from  his  eye — his  sympathies  quicken — his  ques- 
tions become  manifold ;  and  at  parting,  he  asks  the  honour  to 
grasp  a  freeman's  hand.     This  is  no  fiction.     Few  are  aware 
how  hallowed,  and  how  deep,  are  their  feelings,  who  worship 
Liberty  as  a  mistress  they  never  may  possess.     When  such  is 
the  feeling  of  the  People,  and  with  such  examples  to  encourage, 
as  now  exist,  Despotism  cannot  sit  like  the  Ancient  of  Days. 
But  years  must  roll  on — other  battles  must  be  fought — other 
patriots  cloven  down — Poland  rise,  perhaps,  and  sink  again, — 
ere  that  senate  house  is  built  in  Warsaw,  under  whose  sacred 
porticoes  the  freemen  of  distant  nations  will  delight  to  meet. 

Among  all  who  have  laboured  in  the  great  cause  of  man,  none 
has  acted  a  more  benevolent,  consistent  and  illustrious  part,  than 
he  who  left  a  brilliant  destiny  in  Europe  to  espouse  the  wrongs 
of  these  States.  It  is  impossible  to  do  justice  to  his  actions 
and  principles  in  a  brief  essay,  for  the  first  are  connected  with 
the  protracted  changes  of  a  memorable  age ;  and  the  latter  lie 
at  the  root  of  all  just  government.  This  is  the  less  to  be  re- 


9 

gretted,  as  much  of  his  life  is  a  familiar  story,,  and  as  his  princi- 
ples are  identical  with  our  own  political  faith.  As  if  every 
thing  conspired  to  prove  his  sincere  convictions,  and  his  noble 
disinterestedness,  the  moment  of  his  embracing  our  cause  was 
one  of  overwhelming  gloom.  So  discouraging  did  our  pros- 
pects seem,  (Washington  being  then  on  his  retreat  through 
Jersey,  with  a  handful  of  defeated  followers,)  that  the  Ameri- 
can Commissioners  deemed  themselves  bound  in  conscience 
and  honour  to  dissuade  a  highly-connected  youth  from  so  un- 
promising an  enterprize.  His  answer  to  their  candid  remon- 
stance  embodies  the  spirit  of  his  whole  life.  "  Hitherto,"  said 
young  Lafayette,  "  I  have  done  no  more  than  wish  success  to 
your  cause.  I  now  go  to  serve  it.  The  more  it  has  fallen  in 
public  opinion  the  greater  will  be  the  effect  of  my  departure. 
Since  you  cannot  procure  a  vessel,  I  will  purchase  and  fit  one 
out  at  my  own  expense ;  and  I  will  also  undertake  to  transmit 
your  despatches  to  the  Congress."- — He  purchased  a  vessel, 
eluded  his  pursuers,  embarked,  and  made  a  successful  winter 
passage  over  seas  beset  with  British  cruisers.  He  presented 
the  despatches  of  our  Commissioners  to  the  American  Con- 
gress, and,  with  them, — made  an  offer  of  himself. 

Here,  my  countrymen,  let  us  pause. — Point  me,  if  you  are 
able,  to  a  parallel ; — for  my  own  recollections  do  not  supply 
it. — He  was  no  needy  adventurer  pushing  his  fortunes  in  the 
new  world ; — no  disgraced  profligate  seeking  to  cover  his  brand- 
ed front  with  a  military  chaplet ; — no  reckless  misanthrope  em- 
bittered by  disappointment  till  perils  had  become  grateful ; — he 
was  no  follower  of  vulgar  glory,  no  lover  of  the  trade  of  murder. 
Adorned  with  talents  and  virtue,  possessor  of  a  princely  reve- 
nue, basking  in  the  royal  favour,  blessed  with  connubial  happi- 
ness,— with  hopes  thick  clustering  round  his  noble  head,  "  as 
blossoms  on  a  bough  in  May" — he  forsook  all,  came  to  us  from 
beyond  the  ocean,  asked  leave  to  pay  his  own  expenses,  and 
fight,  as  a  volunteer,  in  our  naked  and  barefoot  regiments  ! 

2 


10 

"  We  were  but  warriors  for  the  working  day  : 
Our  gayness  and  our  gilt  were  all  besmirch'd 
With  rainy  marching  in  the  painful  field, 
And  time  had  worn  us  into  slovenry ; 
But,  by  the  mass,  our  hearts  were  in  the  trim." 

What  names  stand  out  in  history  as  virtuous  heroes, — Patri- 
ots— self  devoted  ? — Does  Alfred  occur  to  you  ? — A  prince  by 
birth,  he  was  reduced  by  the  invaders  of  his  country  to  the 
condition  of  an  outlaw — obliged  to  refuge  in  dens,  and  caves, 
while  his  kingdom  was  pillaged  before  his  eyes,  and  portioned 
out  by  barbarians.  His  incentive  to  heroic  daring  was  personal 
degradation,  a  present  foe,  aggravated  injury, — his  recompence, 
his  own  rescued  country  and  a  throne. — Similar  wrongs,  similar 
incentives  nerved  the  virtuous  and  valiant  heart  of  Gustavus. 
Himself  imprisoned  by  Christiern,  his  country  enthralled,  inju- 
ry on  injury  heaped  on  Sweden, — he,  at  last,  broke  loose,  and 

poured  the  deluge  from  the  hills  of  Dalecarlia. Leonidas  ! 

Cato  ! — Phocion  ! — Tell !  One  peculiarity  marks  them  all : 
they  dared  and  suffered  for  their  native  land.  Who  else  has 
ever  gone  forth,  alone,  to  a  distant  shore,  to  combat  for  human 
rights  in  the  cause  of  a  weak,  despised  and  unknown  people  ? — 
The  Pilgrim  Fathers,  the  Men  of  the  Revolution  must  yield,  in 
this  last  touch  of  disinterestedness,  to  the  Stranger. 

His  offer  was  not  declined  by  Congress :  it  was  accepted  in 
words  with  which  we  are  all  familiar. 

A  few  weeks  afterwards  he  was  wounded  at  Brandywine, 
and  his  gallantry  especially  noticed  in  Washington's  despatch. 
We  cannot  and  need  not  dwell  on  his  ardent  and  steadfast  at- 
tachment to  the  American  cause  till  peace  crowned  it  with  suc- 
cess. You  know  that  he  came  to  us  in  his  own  ship,  freighted 
with  munitions  of  war  which  he  distributed  gratuitously  to  our 
army ;  that  he  clothed  and  put  shoes  on  the  feet  of  the  naked 
and  suffering  soldiers ;  that  he  equipped  and  armed  a  regiment 
at  his  own  expense ; — that  he  not  only  received  no  pay,  but 
expended  in  our  service  between  the  years  '77  and  '83,  seven 
hundred  thousand  francs.*  He  was  ever  ready  to  expose  him- 

*  Hayne's  Speech. 


11 

self.  General  Greene  says :  "  He  is  determined  to  be  in  the 
way  of  danger."  He  participated  in  the  hardships  of  the  troops, 
and  felt  for  their  mortifications  with  a  brother's  tenderness. 
Listen  to  his  language. 

After  his  return  from  France  in  '80,  where  he  had  success- 
fully used  his  influence  with  the  French  Court  to  procure  suc- 
cours ;  and  had  announced  to  Congress  that  a  strong  armament 
would  soon  follow  him ;  he  writes  thus  to  Samuel  Adams ; 
pressing  for  the  troops  and  supplies  promised  by  Congress  to 
co-operate  with  the  French.  "  All  Europe,  my  dear  sir,  have 
their  eyes  upon  us ;  they  know  nothing  of  us  but  by  our  own 
reports  and  our  first  exertions,  which  heightened  their  esteem ; — 
and  by  the  accounts  of  the  enemy,  and  dissatisfied  persons 
which  were  calculated  to  give  a  very  different  opinion ; — so  that 
to  fix  their  own  minds  all  the  nations  are  now  looking  at  us ; 
and  the  consequence  of  America  in  the  eyes  of  the  world,  as 
well  as  its  liberty  and  happiness  depend  on  the  following  cam- 
paign. The  succour  sent  by  France  I  thought  to  be  very  im- 
portant, when  at  Versailles ;  and  now  that  I  am  on  the  spot,  I 
know  it  was  highly  necessary ;  and  if  proper  measures  are  taken, 
I  shall  more  heartily  than  ever  enjoy  the  happiness  I  had  of 
being  somewhat  concerned  in  the  operation.  But  if  things 
stood  as  they  now  do,  I  confess  whether  as  an  American  soldier, 
or  as  a  private  man,  who  has  said  much,  and  knows  Congress 
have  ordered  much  more  to  be  said,  on  the  future  exertions  of 
America ;  and  who  took  particular  delight  in  praising  the  patri- 
otic spirit  of  the  United  States,  I  should  feel  most  unhappy  and 
distressed,  were  I  compelled  to  tell  the  people  who  are  coming, 
full  of  ardour  and  sanguine  hopes,  that  we  have  no  army  to 
co-operate  with  them ;  and  no  provisions  to  feed  the  few  sol- 
diers that  are  left.  But  I  hope,  my  dear  sir,  it  will  not  be  the 
case;  and,  more  particularly  depending  on  the  exertions  of 
your  State,  I  know  Mr.  Samuel  Adams'  influence  and  popular- 
ity will  be,  as  heretofore,  employed  in  the  salvation  and  glory 
of  America.  If  proper  measures  are  taken  for  provisions ;  if 
the  States  do  immediately  fill  up  the  continental  battalions  by 


12 

good  drafts,  which  is  by  far  the  best  way  ;  if  all  the  propositions 
of  the  Committee  are  speedily  complied  with  ;  I  have  no  doubt 
that  the  present  campaign  will  be  a  glorious  and  decisive  one." — 
"  Give  me  leave,  my  dear  sir,  to  suggest  to  you  one  idea.  All 
the  Continental  officers  labour  under  the  most  shameful  want 
of  clothing.  When  I  say  shameful,  it  is  not  to  them,  who  have 
no  money  to  buy — and  no  cloth  easily  to  be  bought. — But  you 
may  conceive  what  will  be  their,  and  our  feelings  when  they 
shall  be  with  the  French  general  and  other  officers.  And  from 
a  general  idea  of  mankind,  and  human  honour,  it  is  apparent 
how  much  we  should  exert  ourselves  to  put  the  officers  and 
army  in  more  decent  clothing." — Whose  language  is  this  ?  who 
talks  thus  to  Samuel  Adams  ? — Who  appeals  in  this  strain  to 
Massachusetts  ? — From  Washington,  on  whom  rested  the  re- 
sponsibility of  the  war,  it  might  not  seem  remarkable. 

Adams  replies  :  "  Gratitude  to  so  generous  an  ally,  as  well  as 
due  attention  to  our  own  safety,  interest,  and  honour,  lay  us  un- 
der the  strongest  obligations  to  be  in  readiness  to  co-operate 
with  the  greatest  advantage.  I  have  long  been  fully  sensible 
of  your  most  cordial  and  zealous  attachment  to  our  great  cause. 
If  it  were  possible  to  be  forgetful  of  it,  for  a  moment,  my  par- 
ticular friendship  for  you  would  be  a  prevailing  inducement  to 
make  my  utmost  feeble  exertions  to  prevent  your  disappoint- 
ment after  the  great  pains  you  have  taken  to  serve  us.  I  think 
I  may  venture  to  predict  that  this  state  will  comply  with  the 
requisition  upon  her  to  give  the  utmost  respectability  to  our  ar- 
my on  so  promising  an  occasion.  I  was  in  the  council  chamber 
when  I  received  your  letter,  and  I  took  the  liberty  to  read  some 
parts  of  it  to  the  members  present ;  and  I  shall  communicate 
other  parts  as  prudence  may  dictate." — The  letter  of  a  young 
Frenchman  read  to  the  Representatives  of  revolutionary  Mas- 
sachusetts to  stimulate  them  to  their  duty  ! — This  sample  is 
enough. 

In  this  spirit  he  wrote,  fought,  and  negotiated  from  the  first 
moment  he  set  his  foot  on  our  shores  till  the  termination  of  the 
war.  His  courage,  prudence,  generosity  and  devotedness, — and 


13 

his  single-minded  love  of  Washington,  are  attested  by  all  the 
chief  actors  in  the  Revolution — they  are  matters  of  history — 
they  need  not  be  dwelt  upon — they  are  engraven  on  our  hearts. 
But  we  would  hazard  one  remark,  namely,  that  this  people  are 
yet  to  learn  the  extent  of  their  obligations  to  Lafayette.  Doc- 
uments are  believed  to  exist,  which  show  his  influence  to  have 
been  decisive  of  the  policy  of  the  French  Court;  and  in  re- 
gard to  the  expedition  of  Rochambeau,  to  have  been  the  sole 
cause  of  that  most  important  aid.  He  was  in  fact  our  able  and 
zealous  Minister,  as  well  as  our  Major  General. 

We  must  pass  on  to  other  periods  less  minutely  known,  per- 
haps, among  ourselves,  but  not  less  essential  to  a  just  apprecia- 
tion of  his  character ;  the  remarkable  features  of  which  it  is  our 
aim  to  make  apparent  rather  than  to  present  a  complete  bio- 
graphical sketch. 

Two  months  after  the  crowning  stroke  of  the  war,  the  sur- 
render of  Yorktown,  where  by  the  orders  of  Washington  he 
carried  a  redoubt  at  the  point  of  the  bayonet,  Lafayette  return- 
ed to  his  native  country.  Most  honourable  testimonials  were 
entrusted  to  him,  not  simply  of  the  deep  gratitude  of  Congress, 
but  of  their  entire  confidence  in  his  wisdom',  and  positive  in- 
structions were  transmitted  to  our  Ministers  in  Paris  to  confer 
with  him  on  all  our  important  interests,  and  "  avail  themselves 
of  his  information  relative  to  the  situation  of  public  affairs  in 
the  United  States."  Important  they  truly  were  ;  for  the  pre- 
liminaries of  peace  were  yet  to  be  adjusted  and  our  Independ- 
ence to  be  recognized.  By  the  French  Court  and  capital  he 
was  received  with  proud  distinction ;  Voltaire  at  the  zenith  of 
his  glory  pronounced  his  plaudit ;  the  Queen  bestowed  the  ap- 
propriate reward  of  chivalrous  deeds — her  own  angelic  resem- 
blance;— and  the  People  actually  drove  him  from  Paris  by 
their  fetes  and  ovations.  An  incident  in  one  of  his  interviews 
with  the  King  illustrates  character.  After  being  deeply  in- 
terested in  a  long  account  of  the  chances  of  our  fluctuating  af- 
fairs, Louis  suddenly  asked  Lafayette :  "  But  where  were  you 
all  this  while  ?" 


14 

In  the  interval  between  his  return  to  France  in  '81 ,  (of  which 
we  are  now  speaking,)  and  the  commencement  of  the  Revolu- 
tion, various  schemes  of  philanthropy  engaged  his  attention. 
He  also  visited  with  distinguished  honours  the  Courts  of  Joseph 
II.  and  Frederic  the  Great.  That  sagacious  veteran,  who 
knew  what  it  was  to  fight  against  odds  ;  having  dealt,  single- 
handed,  with  four  capital  powers  at  once,  besides  "a  rabble  of 
German  States;"  expressed  the  highest  admiration  of  Washing- 
ton and  of  the  firmness  with  which  the  American  contest  had 
been  conducted.  In  '84  Lafayette  revisited  the  land  of  his 
adoption  ;  where  peace  and  security  were  now  established,  and 
where  blessings  greeted  him  at  every  step :  on  this  occasion  he 
took  a  last  leave  of  the  Father  of  his  country. 

Troublous  signs  began  now  to  appear  in  France.  No  direct 
agency  is  ascribed  to  Lafayette  in  the  preliminary  movements  of 
the  Revolution ;  though  it  is  not  improbable  that  his  heroic  de- 
votion to  liberty,  as  it  caused  a  thrill  of  admiration  through 
Europe,  may  have  diffused  some  kindred  sentiments.  If  such 
be  to  any  considerable  extent  the  fact,  it  proves  the  preparation 
of  the  public  mind  by  other  causes.  Indeed  they  had  been 
long  accumulating — they  lay  deep  and  festering — they  were 
connected  with  old  abuses  and  corruptions — oppressive  feudal 
laws — absurd  usages — unjust  exemptions — immunities  from  tax- 
ation by  the  very  orders  who  had  acquired  the  fee-simple  of 
the  soil.  Degradation  and  suffering  had  been  deepening  from 
reign  to  reign ; — dissatisfaction  \vas  at  last  becoming  universal ; 
— discontent  finding  a  tongue ; — the  vials  of  wrath  drop  by 
drop  were  approaching  the  brim.  Yet,  heretofore,  few  exter- 
nal tokens  indicated  the  unstable  foundations  on  which  the 
monarchy  was  resting.  A  people  accustomed  to  suffer  is  pa- 
tient ;  and  without  instruction  or  a  press  has  no  means  of  com- 
paring grievances,  and  uniting  for  redress.  Had  a  firmer  or  a 
wiser  prince  governed  at  the  time,  the  catastrophe  might  per- 
haps have  been  postponed. 

But  bloody  as  it  was — dreadful  as  its  accompaniments — diabol- 
ical as  many  of  its  agents, — inexorable  and  enduring  as  the  des- 


15 

potlsm  which  followed — perjured  and  apostate  as  the  coalition 
which  has  succeeded  that  despotism  over  much  of  Europe, — 
disastrous  as  all  these  things  are  admitted  to  be,  the  French 
Revolution  conferred  blessings  on  the  old  world  which  no  price 
Could  purchase  back  again,  which  no  obliterated  catalogue  of 
past  sufferings  would  tempt  freemen  or  Frenchmen  to  resign. 
What !  the  soil  of  a  kingdom  portioned  out  among  untaxed  No- 
bles and  Clergy  ! — the  Yeomanry  of  a  nation  tilling  the  ground 
they  do  not  own,  and  then  supplying  from  their  hard-earned  pit- 
tance in  the  form  of  taxes  wherewithal  to  support  the  extrava- 
gance of  a  wasteful  government — leaving  untaxed  a  numerous 
and  profligate  aristocracy,  and  an  unprofitable  clergy  ! — a  people 
dwelling  in  wretched  cottages  which  they  are  not  so  happy  as 
to  own — sweating  over  a  landlord's  furrough — their  children 
coarsely  fed,  and  growing  up  in  ignorance, — that  gaiety,  idle- 
ness, and  extravagance  may  fill  the  chateaus  of  the  provinces, 
and  that  palaces  may  rise  at  the  bidding  of  the  sovereign  trans- 
cending the  splendour  of  Eastern  fiction ! 

Be  not  misled  by  the  writers  of  a  nation,  kindred  to  ourselves, 
who  fear  change ;  nor  dazzled  by  the  eloquence  of  one  who 
might  have  formed  more  dispassionate  opinions  had  a  breadth 
of  ocean  or  of  time  been  interposed  between  him  and  the  phe- 
nomenon he  execrated.  Ask  your  own  hearts  what  price  is  too 
dear  to  pay  for  the  overthrow  of  the  abuses  just  enumerated ; 
or  what  treasure  of  blood,  even,  too  abundant  to  exchange  for 
equal  rights, — equal  taxes, — for  free-hold  farms, — a  free  press, 
— for  trial  by  jury, — for  the  absence  of  privileged  orders, — for 
the  instruction  of  the  poor, — for  the  right  of  withholding  sup- 
plies— for  a  constitutional,  representative  government,  no  mat- 
ter under  what  name  ? — These  are  the  blesssings  on  which  La- 
fayette fixed  his  eyes  at  the  beginning  of  that  great  drama, 
and  on  which  he  kept  them  steadfast  through  its  unparalleled 
changes. 

A  bankrupt  treasury  was  the  immediate  occasion  of  the  over- 
throw of  the  French  monarchy.  Unable  to  conduct  the  gov- 
ernment without  money,  and  thwarted  in  every  effort  to  obtain 


16 

it,  Louis,  after  much  hesitation  and  perplexity,  convened,  in 
1787,  the  first  Assembly  of  the  Notables.  Instead  of  showing 
themselves  subservient  to  the  views  of  the  Minister  of  Finance, 
by  whose  advice  they  were  called  together,  and  voting,  under 
the  decent  forms  of  a  discussion,  the  registry  of  the  immense 
loans  he  proposed,  they  disputed  his  statements,  opposed  his 
plans,  and  assailed  his  character.  Lafayette  was  a  member  of 
this  body,  and  at  this  early  date,  demanded  sundry  humane  re- 
forms, and  made  a  formal  call,  which  no  man  seconded,  for  the 
convocation  of  a  National  Assembly. 

Appearing  now  on  a  new  theatre,  he  at  once  found  the  ad- 
vantage of  his  heroic  apprenticeship  in  America.  The  emo- 
tions of  Liberty  were  not  now  first  swelling  in  his  bosom :  en- 
thusiasm had  had  time  to  throw  off  its  froth ;  immature  opinions 
to  ripen :  he  accordingly  came  into  the  first  French  assemblies, 
at  thirty  two  years  of  age,  with  the  dignity  of  a  matriculated 
freeman.  The  calmness  of  formed  opinions,  the  decision  of  a 
practical  judgment,  the  moderation  of  a  humane  reformer,  gave 
to  his  views  a  marked  authority.  And  had  not  the  blindness  of 
the  French  court  been  past  cure,  and  the  bondage  of  the  nation 
so  abject,  and  their  sufferings  so  prolonged  and  bitter,  that  an 
inebriation  of  frantic  joy  seems  to  have  been  inevitable  on  the 
rupture  of  their  shackles,  his  influence  with  both  might  have 
spared  them  some  lessons  which  it  is  to  be  hoped  the  world  will 
not  have  a  second  time  to  learn. 

The  dissolution  of  the  first  Assembly  of  Notables  was  not 
long  delayed ;  the  convocation  of  the  second ;  the  subsequent 
assembling  of  the  States  General, — a  body  composed  of  repre- 
sentatives from  the  nobles,  clergy,  and  people ; — their  con- 
tests ; — and  the  victory  of  the  popular  branch,  by  whose  influ- 
ence the  three  estates  were  merged  in  one  promiscuous  cham- 
ber, which  declared  itself,  under  the  title  of  the  National  As- 
sembly, the  sole  representative  of  the  people ; — these,  and  other 
movements  of  that  day  of  perplexity  and  change,  can  only  be 
alluded  to. 


17 

The  success  of  the  American  cause,  perhaps,  inspired  La- 
fayette with  more  sanguine  anticipations  as  to  the  regeneration 
of  France.  He  knew  the  practicable  union  of  Liberty  and 
Law :  his  mental  eye  beheld  that  most  beautiful  of  the  works 
of  man,  a  Free  Constitution — and  he  no  doubt  ardently  coveted 
for  France  the  inestimable  boon.  How  soon  it  became  appa- 
rent to  him,  that  the  ignorance  and  corruption  of  the  lower  or- 
ders, and  the  sinister  purposes  of  their  leaders,  were  jeoparding 
the  hopes  of  all  good  men,  is,  on  our  part,  conjectural.  But  he 
who  sat  on  the  same  benches  with  Mirabeau ;  who  knew  his 
life ;  and  was  daily  witness  of  his  amazing  sagacity  and  domi- 
neering eloquence,  could  not  but  be  aware  of  danger  from  such 
a  colleague  : — It  was  not  possible  for  a  judge  of  human  nature 
to  see  such  individuals  as  Danton,  Robespierre,  and  Marat,  rising 
into  influence  on  the  seats  of  the  Jacobins,  without  inward  mis- 
givings : — or  to  know,  without  deep  apprehensions,  that  the 
Duke  of  Orleans  was  near  ;  prepared  by  his  wealth  and  wicked- 
ness, to  pension  the  most  abandoned  agents,  and  abet  the  black- 
est conspiracies.  Once,  the  resistless  influence  of  Lafayette 
expelled  this  incendiary  from  the  kingdom,  but  he  soon  re- 
appeared on  a  scene  so  congenial.  Contrasted  with  such  char- 
acters, how  pure  a  radiance  surrounds  the  name  we  are  met  to 
honour.  Amidst  their  wild  theories,  endless  intrigues,  self- 
seeking  ambition,  perjury,  treachery,  and  blood, — their  dark 
cabals  and  hydra-headed  clubs,  he  moves  like  a  being  left  to 
preserve  the  resemblance  of  wisdom  and  goodness  from  perish- 
ing from  among  a  fated  people. 

From  the  outset,  he  justly  appreciated  the  changes  needful 
to  his  country,  and  suited  to  her  genius.  He  opposed  absolute 
monarchists  on  one  hand,  and  republicans  and  Jacobins  on  the 
other.  He  decided  that  a  monarchy,  rendered  harmless  by  free 
institutions,  was  the  government  best  adapted  to  the  French. 
This  opinion  he  supported  through  every  change,  till  its  final 
establishment  in  1830,  by  a  second  revolution,  as  honorable  as 
the  first  was  revolting.  A  striking  testimony  to  his  sagacity  is 

3 


18 

furnished  by  part  of  a  letter  addressed  to  him,  as  late  as  1815, 
by  Mr.  Jefferson. 

Referring  to  opinions  of  his  own,  expressed  in  the  beginning 
of  the  revolution,  he  says  to  Lafayette  : — "  You  thought  other- 
wise, and  I  found  you  were  right.  Unfortunately,  some  of  the 
most  honest  and  enlightened  of  our  patriotic  friends  did  not  weigh 
the  hazards  of  a  transition  from  one  form  of  government  to  an- 
other ; — the  value  of  what  they  had  already  rescued  from  those 
hazards,  and  might  hold  in  security,  if  they  pleased ; — nor  the 
imprudence  of  giving  up  the  certainty  of  such  a  degree  of  lib- 
erty under  a  limited  monarch,  for  the  uncertainty  of  a  little  more 
under  the  form  of  a  republic.  You  differed  from  them ;  you 
were  for  stopping  there,  and  for  securing  the  Constitution  which 
the  National  Assembly  had  obtained.  Here,  too,  you  were 
right ;  and  from  this  fatal  error  of  the  Republicans,  and  the 
Constitutionalists  in  their  councils,  flowed  all  the  subsequent 
sufferings  and  crimes  of  the  French  nation." 

That  Lafayette  could  not  control,  and  direct  to  happy  ends 
the  dangerous  elements  let  loose,  is  not  strange, — it  would  have 
been  miraculous  could  he  have  done  so.  For  there  were  as- 
sembled provincial  nobles,  jealous  of  each  other,  and  of  the 
more  elevated  orders — lawyers  bent  on  becoming  judges — infe- 
rior members  of  the  church  looking  askance  at  the  mitre — aspi- 
ring men  of  the  tiers  etat  determined  no  longer  to  be  kept 
down — closet  politicians  and  conceited  theorists  broaching  novel 
doctrines  with  each  returning  day,  and  supporting  every  species 
of  impracticable  absurdity.  But  on  the  other  hand,  the  influ- 
ence which  he  actually  exercised  with  all  parties  through  the 
two  years'  sitting  of  the  First,  or  Constituent  Assembly,  (meaning 
that  which  established  the  Constitution,)  and  afterwards  with 
the  second,  or  Legislative  Assembly,  till  the  Jacobins  obtained 
the  ascendancy,  and  the  reign  of  terror  began,  is  a  memorable 
exhibition  of  the  power  of  virtue.  A  republican  and  reformer,  he 
was  trusted  by  the  King ; — an  inflexible  friend  and  supporter  of 
the  King  within  constitutional  limits,  he  was  trusted  by  the 
people  ; — the  bitter  enemy  of  misrule,  he  was  worshipped  by 


19 

the  mob ; — contemning  and  curbing  the  sans  culottes,  and  the 
emissaries  of  the  Jacobins — down  even  to  the  time  of  his  last 
daring  solitary  visit  to  Paris  to  denounce  these  miscreants, — his 
popularity  was  such  that  a  tree  of  liberty  adorned  with  laurels 
and  garlands  was  planted  before  the  door  of  his  Hotel.  His 
opinions  had  a  primary  influence  in  shaping  the  constitution  ; 
his  Declaration  of  Rights  was  the  basis  of  that  adopted  :  he  was 
regarded  as  the  eldest  son  of  Liberty  ;  and  he  disseminated 
ideas,  which,  though  buried  for  a  time,  under  the  ruins  of  the 
constitution  and  laws,  have  lain,  like  seeds  deep-hidden  in  the 
earth,  to  attain  to  after  fruitfulness. 

His  most  essential  service,  however,  to  his  fellow  citizens  of 
that  day,  was  the  preservation  of  order  in  the  capital.  The 
Assembly,  finding  requisite  some  military  counterpoise  to 
the  royal  troops,  chose  him,  with  the  King's  approbation, 
commander  of  the  civic  guard.  He  was  soon  afterwards  made 
Commandant  of  the  Parisian  division  of  the  National  Guard, 
a  force  (somewhat  like  a  militia)  regularly  instituted  and  armed 
throughout  the  kingdom  pursuant  to  his  advice.  The  old  white, 
joined  to  blue  and  red,  the  colours  of  the  city,  were  adopted  as 
their  symbol.  Addressing  the  Assembly  on  the  subject  of  this 
new  establishment,  he  uttered  these  remarkable  words. — -"  Gen- 
tlemen, I  bring  you  a  cockade  which  shall  make  the  tour  of  the 
world  ;  and  an  institution,  at  once  civic  and  military,  which  shall 
change  the  system  of  European  tactics,  and  reduce  all  absolute 
governments  to  the  alternative  of  being  beaten  if  they  do  not 
adopt  it7~~er  of  being  overthrown  if  they  do." 

Idolized  by  this  national  military  composed  chiefly  of  re- 
spectable and  substantial  citizens  zealous  to  repress  licentious- 
ness, he  was  for  two  years  the  absolute  master  of  Paris.  His 
influence  alone  made  her  streets  safe  at  noonday,  and  secured 
each  returning  night  from  the  perpetration  of  frightful  tragedies. 
During  this  period  of  wild  fermentation  when  all  the  ancient 
institutions  of  the  monarchy,  crown,  mitre,  and  coronet,  rooted 
prejudices,  and  reverenced  customs,  were  cast  into  the  crucible 
of  the  Assembly  to  undergo  a  transformation  into  forms  of  the- 


20 

oretic  beauty ;  Lafayette  succeeded  in  preserving  the  domestic 
sanctuary  from  violence,  and  more  than  once  snatched  his  unhap- 
py sovereign,  and  the  ill-starred  queen  from  impending  butchery. 
That  indescribable  crusade  from  Paris  to  Versailles,  composed 

of  beings 

"  Abominable,  inutterable,  and  worse 
Than  fables  yet  have  feigned;" 

has  occasioned  a  writer,  not  often  censurable,  to  soil  the  can- 
dour of  his  own  pure  page  by  leaving  there  a  surmise  to  the 
prejudice  of  one  whose  whole  life  refutes  it,  and  whose  interposi- 
tion on  this  critical  occasion  unquestionably  preserved  the  Queen. 
Sir  Walter  Scott  had  no  right  to  hint  at  disloyalty,  or  even 
negligence,  on  the  part  of  Lafayette,  after  the  unwearied  exer- 
tions, and  the  known  facts  of  that  day.  The  interior  posts  of 
the  palace  were  not  in  his  charge.  To  the  Swiss  and  the  body 
guard,  they  were  exclusively  entrusted ;  and  through  a  private 
passage  in  charge  of,  and  overlooked  by  the  latter,  the  assassins 
entered.  Lafayette  solicited  of  the  King  for  himself  and  his 
National  Guard,  the  protection  of  the  interior  posts  also  ;  but 
the  exterior  only  were  assigned  him.  This  is  expressly  stated 
by  the  daughter  of  Neckar,  who  was  on  the  spot — in  the  pal- 
ace— participated  in  the  terrors  of  the  night — knew  all  the 
movements,  communications,  and  instructions  of  Lafayette,  and 
would  naturally  remember  them  while  memory  continued  to 
perform  her  office.  "  It  is  therefore  absurd,"  says  Madame  de 
Stael,  "  to  censure  M.  Lafayette  for  an  event  so  unlikely  to 
happen.  No  sooner  was  he  apprised  of  it  than  he  rushed  for- 
ward to  the  assistance  of  those  who  were  threatened,  with  an 
ardour  which  was  acknowledged  at  the  moment — before  calum- 
ny had  prepared  her  poison." — But,  however  generous,  or  im- 
partial, (and  Sir  Walter  is  both,)  a  British  Tory  writer  is,  per- 
haps, as  incapable  of  a  hearty  sentiment  towards  Lafayette,  as 
of  complacency  in  the  laurels  of  Decatur. 

The  King  in  compliance  with  the  demands  of  the  mob  gave 
orders  for  the  immediate  removal  of  the  court  to  Paris.  But 
Lafayette  apprehensive  of  danger  to  the  Queen  from  the  armed 


21 

and  infuriated  rabble  who  were  yet  howling  every  blasphemous 
and  obscene  execration  under  the  windows  of  the  palace,  pro- 
posed to  her  to  appear  with  him  on  the  balcony.  With  calm 
dignity  she  presented  herself.  Not  being  able  to  make  himself 
heard,  he  conceived,  says  Sarrans,  the  happy  idea  of  kissing 
the  hand  of  Marie  Antoinette.  Vive  la  Heine  I — Vive  La 
Fayette  I  resounded  from  the  multitude.  He  then  led  out,  and 
embraced  one  of  the  Body  Guard,  whom  he  had  just  saved 
from  assassination.  Vive  les  Gardes  de  Corps  !  echoed  from 
the  mouths  of  these  consistent  reformers.  On  his  return  to 
the  royal  closet,  Madame  Adelaide  the  aunt  of  Louis,  embra- 
ced him,  and  called  him  the  saviour  of  the  King  and  his  family. 
To  the  time  of  their  deaths  the  King,  Queen,  and  Madame 
Elizabeth,  publicly  acknowledged  that  to  Lafayette  they  were 
indebted,  on  this  memorable  occasion,  for  their  lives.- — These 
are  the  statements  of  an  intimate  friend  and  aid-de-camp  of 
General  Lafayette,  who  collected  the  facts  from  his  own  lips, 
and  his  written  memoranda.  By  an  American  audience,  there- 
fore, they  will  be  esteemed  of  some  validity. 

The  work  of  the  Constituent  Assembly,  the  Constitution  was 
now  finished,  and  the  preparations  completed  for  solemnizing 
its  adoption.  This  remarkable  scene  is,  thus,  in  substance  pre- 
sented to  us.*  In  the  immense  plain  of  the  Champ  de  Mars, 
within  a  vast  amphitheatre  erected  by  the  personal  labour  of  all 
Paris,  and  capable  of  containing  400,000  people,  a  temple  was 
formed  by  gigantic  columns  enveloped  with  ivy  and  laurel, 
connected  by  festoons  of  foliage.  In  the  centre  of  it  was  pla- 
ced an  altar,  and  thereupon  was  laid  the  Book  of  the  Constitu- 
tion. Here  the  King,  the  National  Assembly,  and  the  People, 
convened  to  take  an  oath  to  support  the  revised  Constitution, 
and  to  defend  the  cause  of  Liberty.  Numbers  came  up  from 
the  distant  provinces,  and  from  remote  parts  of  Europe  as 
spectators  of  this  great  Confederation.  On  the  14th  of  June, 
1790,  the  citizens  began  to  assemble  at  day-break :  at  a  later 

*  By  Dr.  Moore.        •'••V- 


22 

hour  the  National  Guard  led  by  Lafayette,  followed  by  the 
electors  of  the  city  of  Paris,  the  members  of  the  municipality, 
the  Deputies  of  the  National  Assembly,  the  Deputies  from  the 
different  Departments,  a  deputation  from  the  army  and  navy 
headed  by  the  two  Marshals  of  France,  proceeded  to  the  spot. 
Their  banners  and  colours  were  placed  round  the  altar.  Two 
hundred  Priests  dressed  in  garments  of  white  linen  decorated 
with  the  national-coloured  ribbons  were  stationed  on  its  steps. 
At  the  head  of  these,  (worthy  High  Priest  of  the  first  Revolu- 
tion !)  stood  Talleyrand,  Bishop  of  Autun,  who  had  been  ap- 
pointed to  administer  the  oath  of  confederation.  The  King, 
for  that  day  only,  had  been  made  supreme  and  absolute  com- 
mander of  all  the  National  Guards  of  France.  He  delegated 
his  authority  to  Lafayette  who  thus  became,  for  the  time,  the 
High  Constable  of  all  the  armed  men  of  the  kingdom.  The 
ceremony  began  by  the  celebration  of  mass.  Lafayette  as  the 
representative  of  the  military  of  the  nation  first  took  the  oath. 
As  he  left  the  foot  of  the  throne,  and  moved  towards  the  altar, 
the  trumpets  began  to  sound,  and  an  innumerable  band  of 
military  music  filled  the  air  till  he  ascended  the  steps  of  the 
altar.  In  view  of  this  immense  concourse  he  laid  the  point  of 
his  sword  upon  the  Bible  which  was  on  the  table  of  the  altar, 
and  raising  his  other  hand  towards  the  sky,  the  music  ceased, 
and  a  universal  stillness  succeeded,  while  he  pronounced  :  "  We 
swear  to  be  faithful  to  the  Nation,  to  the  Law  and  to  the  King ; 
to  maintain,  to  the  utmost  of  our  power,  the  Constitution  de- 
creed by  the  National  Assembly,  and  accepted  by  the  King." — 
Of  the  heartless  invocations  and  broken  vows  which  followed 
the  oath  of  Lafayette,  we  take  no  account.  His  pledge  was 
ratified  in  heaven — length  of  days,  wisdom,  influence  and  oc- 
casion, have  all  been  granted.  Our  Patriot  stands  unperjured  ; 

"  Among  the  faithless,  faithful  only  he." 

After  the  second  acceptance  of  the  constitution  by  the  King, 
in  '91,  pursuant  to  its  revised  decrees,  he  resigned  the  command 
of  the  Parisian  National  Guard  which  he  had  held  with  such 


23 

signal  advantage  to  the  capital,  more  than  two  years  ;  and  re- 
tired to  his  native  Auvergne.  The  Constituent  Assembly  ceas- 
ed about  the  same  time  by  a  voluntary  dissolution.  But  soon 
after  the  convening  of  its  successor,  the  Legislative  Assembly, 
he  was  recalled,  and  entrusted  with  one  of  the  three  armies 
raised  to  oppose  the  coalition.  His  occupation  on  the  frontiers 
emboldened  the  Jacobins  to  more  open  and  daring  procedings. 
But  though  in  the  camp,  his  mind  was  concentrated  on  their 
nefarious  designs  against  their  sovereign,  the  constitution  and 
the  laws.  He  accordingly  addressed  a  letter  from  his  head- 
quarters to  the  Assembly  denouncing  the  Clubs,  and,  by  name, 
their  most  dangerous  abettors— a  measure  of  extreme  boldness ; 
but  transcended  by  a  step  soon  after  taken  by  himself.  A  pass- 
age only  from  this  letter,  shall  detain  us. 

"  Can  you  conceal  from  yourselves,  gentlemen,  that  a  faction, 
and  to  avoid  vague  denunciations,  the  Jacobin  faction,  has  caus- 
ed all  these  disorders.  I  here  openly  accuse  that  faction.  Or- 
ganized like  a  separate  power,  in  its  source  and  its  ramifications, 
blindly  directed  by  a  few  ambitious  leaders,  that  sect  forms  a 
distinct  corporation  amidst  the  French  People  whose  power  it 
usurps." — "  This  faction  in  public  sittings  styles  respect  for  the 
laws  aristocracy,  and  their  infraction  patriotism — they  pronounce 
eulogies  on  the  assassins  of  Versailles,  and  panegyrize  the 
crimes  of  Jourdan." — "  It  is  I  who  denounce  this  sect ;  and 
why  should  I  longer  delay  to  fulfill  this  duty,  when  the  power 
of  the  constituted  authority  is  daily  diminishing,  when  party 
spirit  is  substituted  for  the  will  of  the  people,  and  when  the 
boldness  of  agitators  imposes  silence  on  the  peaceful  portion  of 
the  citizens." — "  Let  the  reign  of  the  Clubs  be  annihilated 
by  the  reign  of  the  law, — their  usurpations  by  the  firm  and 
independent  operation  of  the  constituted  authorities — their  dis- 
organizing maxims  by  the  true  principles  of  Liberty — their  un- 
bridled fury  by  the  calm  and  steady  courage  of  a  nation  who 
knows  her  rights  and  can  defend  them." — Can  the  mind  con- 
ceive more  noble  and  undaunted  language  under  circumstances 
so  calculated  to  suggest  caution  to  any  man  capable  of  intimi- 
dation. 


24 

Six  days  after  the  date  of  this  letter,  the  Assembly  was  in- 
sulted by  the  irruption  of  the  mob  into  their  very  hall ;  whence, 
after  fraternizing  with  the  terrified  members  they  rushed  to  the 
Tuilleries,  planted  a  cannon  against  the  gate,  and  broke  into 
the  recesses  of  the  palace.  The  royal  family  on  this  occa- 
sion escaped  personal  injury  ;  but  not  the  most  distressing  hu- 
miliation. On  receiving  intelligence  of  these  outrages,  Lafay- 
ette repaired  unprotected  to  Paris — entered  almost  alone  that 
misguided  and  guilty  city — and  stood  before  the  bar  of  the  as- 
tonished Assembly.  Such  resolution  awed  even  the  most  dar- 
ing Jacobins  ;  they  listened  from  then:  mountain  benches,  in 
dumb  amazement,  with  emotions  which  demoniac  natures  can 
best  parallel,  to  the  indignant  denunciations  of  the  great  As- 
sertor  of  Liberty. 

11  Abash'd  the  Devil  stood ; 
And  felt  how  awful  goodness  is,  and  saw 
Virtue  in  her  shape  how  lovely." 

Part  only  of  his  design  was  yet  attempted.  He  immediately 
sought  an  interview  with  the  unhappy  King,  and  vainly  urged 
every  argument  to  persuade  him  to  escape.  His  offers  of  safe- 
guard were  repulsed.  The  Queen  declared  it  would  be  too 
much  again  to  owe  their  lives  to  M.  Lafayette.  Motives, 
however  which  they  did  not  disclose  probably  influenced  then- 
decision.  Disappointed  in  both  his  hopes,  namely  of  bringing 
the  Assembly  to  a  sense  of  their  duty,  and  of  rescuing  the  royal 
family,  he  returned  to  the  frontiers.  This  effort  for  the  preser- 
vation of  his  King  and  country  is  worthy  of  comparison  with 
his  first  great  resolve  in  the  cause  of  Freedom ;  and  few  actions 
of  equal  magnanimity  are  recorded  in  history.  Scott  admits 
courage  and  disinterestedness  in  this  transaction,  but  there  is  no 
unction  in  his  phrase,  not  a  particle  of  that  spontaneous  glow 
which  would  quickly  have  reminded  us  of  the  fiery  urn  within, 
had  he  been  describing  a  similar  action  of  the  Douglas,  or  Mac 
Callum  More.  He  admits  what  cannot  be  denied  ;  but  it  is  in 
nullifying  language. — Such  is  human  nature. — It  is  proof  of 


25 

what  I  before  asserted. — And  such  will  continue  to  be  the  treat- 
ment of  all  we  love  and  honour,  till  we  recount  our  own  deeds  to 
the  sweeping  of  our  own  lyre. 

The  Jacobin  ascendancy  was  now  becoming  supreme,  and 
the  dreadful  10th  of  August  finally  established  that  terrific  pop- 
ular Tyranny.  Safety  and  humanity  were  no  more.  Septem- 
ber came,  that  bloody  September ! — But  gladly  over  the  ensu- 
ing scenes  we  leave  the  veil. 

The  sound  of  the  tocsin,  or  the  voice  of  sympathy  could  no 
longer  reach  Lafayette.  The  constitution  overthrown,  himself 
denounced,  commissioners  for  his  arrest  in  the  camp,  fear  and 
disaffection  spreading  among  his  own  troops,  he  saw  no  alter- 
native but  an  unprofitable  death  or  exile.  After  posting  his  ar- 
my in  an  advantageous  position,  and  announcing  the  disastrous 
state  of  things,  he  retired  with  a  few  friends,  with  the  intention 
of  reaching  Holland.  The  particulars  of  his  arrest  and  illegal 
imprisonment  must  not  detain  us.  We  all  know  something  of 
Austrian  dungeons,  whose  actual  details  are  not  surpassed  by 
the  blood-curdling  records  of  the  Inquisition.*  It  would  baffle 
Dante  himself  to  place  an  innocent  sufferer  in  circumstances 
more  calculated  to  break  his  spirit  if  not  subdue  his  virtue. — 
The  voice  of  the  artillery,  the  gathering  of  the  strife,  the 
shouts,  the  groans,  the  ghastly  spectacles,  which  signalize  death's 
mightier  banquets  are  held  terrible  and  trying  to  the  heart 
of  man.  Yet  thousands  covet  the  joy  of  battle ;  and  youthful 
frames  have  bid  defiance  to  the  thumb-screw  and  the  rack. 
But  few  have  sustained,  unsubdued,  long  solitary  imprisonment. 
No  human  smile — no  human  voice — no  intelligence  from  the 
external  world — -the  sun  shut  out — the  waxing  and  the  waning 
seasons  unperceived — the  yearning  of  the  tenderest  sympathies 

*  They  who  are  solicitous  to  be  more  fully  instructed  on  this  topic,  are  re- 
ferred to  a  most  interesting  work  entitled  "My  Prisons,"  by  Silvio  Pellico ; 
a  new  translation  of  which,  with  additions  by  Maroncelli,  is  now  about  to 
be  published  in  Boston,  under  able  superintendence,  and  in  a  more  perfect 
form;  for  the  benefit  of  Signer  Maroncelli— a  poet,  scholar,  and  grievous 
fellow-sufferer,  who  has  taken  refuge  in  the  United  States. 

4 


26 

unsatisfied — all  a  blank.  Constrain  the  wretched  prisoner, 
moreover,  to  say  :  To  me,  "  hope  never  comes,  that  comes  to 
all,"  and  you  have  completed  human  woe.  To  the  utmost  of 
their  power,  the  merciless  violators  of  the  LawTs  of  Nations  who 
imprisoned  Lafayette  fulfilled  this  category.  When  he  was 
consigned  to  his  dungeon,  six  by  ten,  in  the  castle  of  the  Jes- 
uits, with  walls  twelve  feet  thick,  he  was  deliberately  informed 
that  he  would  never  more  see  any  thing  but  the  four  walls  of 
his  prison, — that  he  would  never  again  hear  a  human  voice — 
and  that  he  would  be  designated  in  dispatches  to  Government 
only  by  the  number  of  his  cell. 

Are  these  the  tender  mercies  of  despotism  ? — Utter  this  to  a 
fellow  creature  ! — who  had  violated  no  sanctuary,  butchered  no 
babes  ! — -Come  !  O  come  !  ye  who  abuse  the  blessings  of  Lib- 
erty— and  You,  Unbelievers  in  all  that  is  holy,  and  noble,  and 
disinterested  in  the  soul  of  man — you  who  deride  principle — 
and  deny  in  your  hearts  the  existence  of  virtue — Come,  and 
see  the  adopted  son  of  Washington  in  his  dungeon  at  Olrnutz  ! 
— Do  you  behold  him  ? — A  bed  of  straw,  a  table  and  a  chair, 
are  all  his  accommodations.  He  is  young,  but  his  hair  has  fallen 
out  with  suffering — he  is  weak,  emaciated,  and  wan — he  has 
pined  there  two  years — he  knows  not  whether  his  wife  and 
children  are  in  the  abodes  of  the  living — he  sees  no  friend — he 

hears  no  voice  ! What  upholds  him  ? — What  prevents  heart 

and  flesh  from  failing  utterly  ? 

There,  in  secrecy  and  mystery,  the  place  of  his  confinement 
long  unknown,  and  his  very  existence  a  problem,  he  remained 
from  '93  to  '97.  When  his  situation  was  disclosed,  generous 
men,  every  where,  felt  commiseration.  Washington  appealed 
— Jews  advanced  money — Strangers  risked  their  lives  for  his 
escape.  Yet  in  the  British  House  of  Commons,  on  the  motion 
of  General  Fitzpatrick  for  an  enquiry  into  his  case,  with  a  view 
to  the  interference  of  Government  for  his  release,  Mr.  Pitt  de- 
nied that  Lafayette  was  ever  the  real  friend  of  liberty,  and  de- 
clared his  detention  no  infraction  of  the  law  of  nations,  and  op- 
posed the  motion  as  improper  and  unnecessary.  Burke  equally 


27 

resisted  it,  denounced  Lafayette  as  the  author  of  all  the  mis- 
eries that  had  befallen  France,  and  ridiculed  interference  in  his 
behalf.  The  answer  of  Fox  is  worthy  of  a  brazen  tablet ;  but 
it  was  unavailing. — It  was  not  till  the  expiration  of  half  his  cap- 
tivity, that  Madame  Lafayette  and  his  daughters  found  their  way 
to  him.  Their  presence  could  only  be  called  the  joy  of  grief; 
for  who  could  witness  the  sepulture  of  the  living  objects  of  his 
affection  without  new  and  excruciating  anguish. 

Kidnapped  by  this  same  Austria,  the  Lion-Richard,  for  two 
years,  beat  his  great  heart  against  the  bars  of  his  dungeon, 
and  might  have  mouldered  there, — while  his  people  were  in- 
voking every  Saint  to  reveal  his  hermitage  or  his  tomb, — had 
he  not  found  in  his  faithful  Blondel,  a  Bollman  and  Huger. 

This  sad  epoch  is  reviewed  by  us  with  a  strange  delight,  as  the 
last  proof  of  firmness  of  mind,  and  also  because  it  imparts  to 
one  whom  we  before  regarded  with  grateful  love,  a  portion  of 
the  martyr's  sanctity.  If  he  would  have  recanted  his  Bill  of 
Rights,  if  he  would  have  joined  the  Royalists  against  France, 
he  might  at  any  moment  have  been  free. — Here,  let  those,  if 
such  there  be,  who,  for  trivial  considerations,  abjure  their  con- 
victions, pause,  and  wonder !  Let  such  remember,  too,  that  he, 
who  for  the  paltry  prize  of  office,  becomes  the  advocate  of  men 
or  measures,  disapproved  by  his  conscience,  is,  virtually,  in 
arms  against  his  country. — All-seeing  Providence  alon#  can 
tell,  how  far  this  last  test  of  his  incorruptible  spirit  was  requisite 
to  enable  him,  afterwards,  to  absorb,  and  concentrate  the  whole 
power  of  France,  in  the  crisis  of  '30,  and  thus  finally  to  lay  the 
corner  stone  of  her  liberties. 

But  while  he  lay  immured,  the  victim  of  ungenerous  Despots, 
a  name  was  rising  soon  to  prove  troublesome  to  their  slumbers. 
The  vulgar  crimes,  and  mean  tyranny  we  have  been  contem- 
plating do  somewhat  towards  reconciling  us  to  the  ascendancy 
of  this  king  of  kings.  Difficult  as  it  is  to  avoid  diverging  to 
such  a  theme,  we  must  refrain  from  any  notice  of  the  era  of  Na- 
poleon. Suffice  it  to  say,  this  was  the  day  of  wonders — As- 
tonishing history,  distancing  fiction — this  the  name,  which  haunt* 


28 

ed  the  peace  of  thrones — the  hand,  that  weighed  them  in  the 
balances  and  divided  their  ancient  Borders — the  Captain — the 
Lawgiver — the  terrible  Agent  who  almost  fulfilled,  with  his  tri- 
colored  banner,  the  prophecy  we  have  recited  ; — 

"  Whose  slightest  motions  fill'd  the  world  with  tidings, 
Waked  he  or  slept,  Fame  walch'd  the  important  hour, 
And  nations  told  it  round." 

To  his  interposition,  Lafayette  owed  his  liberty  :  for  though 
in  '96  the  first  of  British  Statesmen  ridiculed  interference  in  his 
behalf,  not  so  thought  repentant  France  in  '97.  His  release, 
and  that  of  his  fellow  sufferers  was,  by  the  Directory,  made 
an  express  stipulation  in  the  treaty  of  Campo  Formio.  Irri- 
tated with  the  equivocations  of  the  Imperial  minister,  Bona- 
parte, at  length,  despatched  a  former  aid-de-camp  of  Lafayette's 
with  this  intelligible  message  to  the  Emperor : — that  if  the  pris- 
on doors  of  General  Lafayette  were  not  open  in  one  month  from 
the  date  of  the  demand,  himself  and  the  army  of  Italy  would 
appear  before  Vienna  and  unbar  them  for  him. 

Instantly  after  the  establishment  of  the  provisional  Consulate, 
Lafayette,  who  had  resided  two  years  in  Holstein,  returned  to 
France,  and  settled  himself  at  La  Grange — informing  the  Con- 
suls, that  since  they  once  more  professed  the  principles  of  '89 
his  place  was  in  France.  But  all  the  attempts  of  Bonaparte  to 
attach  him  to  his  Government  were  unsuccessful ;  though  he 
ever  acknowledged  most  gratefully  his  obligations  to  the  Com- 
mander of  the  army  of  Italy.  A  seat  in  the  Senate  with  thirty 
six  thousand  francs  per  annum,  and  the  dignity  of  Count  of  the 
Empire  with  eighteen  thousand  more,  were  pressed  upon  him, 
and  declined  ;  though  now  reduced  by  confiscations,  and  by  a 
long  course  of  sacrifices  in  the  cause  of  Liberty  to  a  meagre 
sufficiency.  Had  past  events  thrown  no  light  upon  his  charac- 
ter, the  all-seeing  eyes  of  the  First  Consul  must  have  speedily 
discerned  the  impracticability  of  winning  such  a  man  from  his 
political  convictions.  Accordingly,  after  the  frank  exposition 
of  his  views,  when  called  upon  to  vote  the  consulate  for  life, 


29 

no  further  propositions  were  made  him.  How  many  among 
even  sincere  patriots  would  have  said :  It  is  enough  : — I  have 
striven,  sacrificed,  suffered  : — age  is  advancing — poverty  near — 
can  I  overrule  events  ?  Shall  I  utterly  sacrifice  myself  and  my 
children  to  the  still-receding  hope  of  Liberty  ?— -  to  a  consisten- 
cy which  the  selfish  ridicule,  and  which  even  good  men  may 
think  extreme  ? — But  this  fresh  proof  of  the  reality  of  his  prin- 
ciples was  not  thrown  away. 

To  the  forgotten  solitudes  of  La  Grange  he  seemed  now  con- 
signed for  the  residue  of  his  days.  There,  he  watched  the  ac- 
cumulation of  power  by  the  French  Ruler  ;  saw  the  Consulship 
develope  itself  into  the  magnificent  pageant  of  the  Empire, 
whose  borders — still  advancing — left  the  Rhine,  the  Pyrenees, 
and  the  Alps  behind.  Austerlitz — Jena — Friedland — Wa- 
gram — made  no  changes  in  the  patriarchal  hall  of  Lafayette  ; 
except  after  the  peace  of  Tilsit,  restoring  to  him  his  son,  who 
had  till  then  served  faithfully  in  the  French  armies,  but  against 
whose  promotion  the  resentful  Emperor  was  inflexible. 

We  may  imagine  him,  during  these  years,  occasionally  turn- 
ing, like  Israel  from  Goshen,  a  meek  but  hopeful  eye  towards 
his  far  off  Promised  Land  of  Liberty ;  in  the  ultimate  attain- 
ment of  which,  says  Madame  de  Stael,  "  his  confidence  is  the 
same  as  that  of  a  pious  man  in  a  future  state."  An  affecting 
proof  of  this  assertion  is  presented  by  his  answer  to  the  solicita- 
tions of  Mr.  Jefferson,  in  1804,  to  accept  the  provisional  gov- 
ernment of  Louisiana.  "  Your  proposition,"  replied  Lafayette, 
"offers  all  the  advantages  of  dignity,  wealth,  and  security  ;  and 
I  do  not  feel  less  warmly  than  I  have  done  these  thirty  years, 
the  desire  of  advancing  with  American  liberty,  in  its  progress 
over  all  the  continent.  But  you,  my  dear  friend,  you  also  know 
and  share  my  wishes  for  French,  and  consequently  for  European 
liberty.  In  America  the  cause  of  mankind  is  gained  and  se- 
cured. Nothing  can  arrest,  change,  or  sully  its  progress.  Here 
all  is  as  lost,  and  without  hope.*  But  tor  me  to  pronounce  that 

*  Bonaparte  having  become  Emperor  the  same  year. 


sentence — to  proclaim  it,  as  it  were,  by  a  final  expatriation — 
would  be  a  concession  so  contrary  to  my  sanguine  nature,  that 
unless  I  were  absolutely  forced,  I  know  not  the  land,  however 
disadvantageous,  and  still  less  can  I  imagine  the  hope,  however 
unpromising,  which  I  could  totally  and  irrevocably  abandon. 
When  I  consider  the  prodigious  influence  of  French  doctrines 
upon  the  future  destinies  of  the  wrorld,  I  think  it  will  not  be 
right  in  me — one  of  the  promoters  of  that  revolution — to  admit 
the  impossibility  of  beholding  it,  even  in  our  time,  re-established 
on  its  true  basis — that  of  a  generous,  a  virtuous,  in  a  word,  an 
American  liberty." 

While  Europe  was  divided  between  astonishment  and  dismay, 
to  see  her  ancient  regal  institutions,  and  her  capital  cities,  top- 
pling before  the  trumpets  of  Napoleon ;  and  the  eyes  of  the 
rest  of  mankind  were  aching  in  the  attempt  to  pursue  his  eagles ; 
the  Veteran  of  Liberty  gradually  faded  and  disappeared  from 
the  thoughts  of  men.  He  was  canonized  in  our  memories  with 
Washington,  and  our  habitual  feelings  scarcely  recognized  their 
existence  in  separate  worlds.  But,  at  last,  when  the  wheels  of 
the  Man  of  Destiny  began  to  wax  weary,  and  his  adamantine 
heart  to  show  signs  of  human  faintness ; — when  driven  in  upon 
the  vital  point  of  his  dominions ;  with  innumerable  and  vindic- 
tive foes  menacing  not  only  the  capital,  but  endangering  the  in- 
dependence, itself,  of  France — who  did  not  start,  when  amidst 
the  Imperial  Dukes  and  Marshals,  like  the  risen  Spirit  of  the 
Constituent  Assembly,  appeared  the  long-forgotten  form  of  La- 
fayette ?  How  thrilling  in  our  ears  sounded  his  voice,  pronoun- 
cing,— "  Here  must  your  course  be  stayed :  Laws,  and  Rights, 
and  Charters  here  begin.  Duty  now  commands  us  to  surround 
the  tri-coloured  standard  of  '89,  the  standard  of  liberty,  equal- 
ity, and  public  order." 

His  speech  and  propositions,  in  the  face  of  death,  on  the 
fourth  day  after  the  battle  of  Waterloo,  are  admitted  to  have 
sealed  the  doom  of  Bonaparte ;  and  cotemporary  accounts 
affirm,  that  when  the  Emperor  heard  Lafayette  was  in  the 
Tribune,  his  agitation  "gave  signs  that  all  was  lost."  Lucien, 


31 

in  behalf  of  his  brother,  entreated,  and  appealed  to  their  love  of 
glory,  their  fidelity,  their  recent  oaths.  Lafayette  replied, — 
"  We  have  been  faithful — we  have  followed  your  brother  to  the 
sands  of  Egypt — to  the  snows  of  Russia ; — the  bones  of  French- 
men, scattered  in  every  region,  attest  our  fidelity.  We  will  trust 
him  no  longer — we  will  ourselves  undertake  the  salvation  of  our 
country." 

But  the  day  of  liberation  was  not  yet  come.  The  Allies  were 
masters  of  France,  and  arbiters  in  an  order  of  things  still  repug- 
nant to  the  principles  of  her  truest  friend  ;  and  the  shades  of 
his  retirement  again  received  him.  Thence  the  solicitations  of 
the  American  government  and  people  drew  him,  for  a  brief  but 
brilliant  period.  We  all  remember  1824.  Who  did  not  feel 
himself,  after  the  transactions  of  that  year,  not  simply  happier, 
but  a  worthier  citizen  of  a  worthier  government  ?  Probably 
Europe  herself  never  looked  with  more  complacency  on  her 
illustrious  citizen,  than  when  he  returned,  like  the  Lawgiver 
from  the  Mount,  with  the  collected  glory  of  America  in  his 
countenance. 

In  the  interim  between  his  return  to  France,  and  the  occur- 
rences which  terminated  the  reign  of  Charles,  he  was  a  mem- 
ber of  the  representative  chamber ;  and  if  ever  Adams,  Wash- 
ington, Hamilton,  or  Jay,  manfully  asserted  human  rights,  in 
that  tribune  did  Lafayette,  year  after  year,  stand  up  their  able, 
persevering,  perspicacious,  undaunted  advocate.  I  was  not 
aware,  till  the  present  occasion  called  for  the  investigation,  how 
resolute,  constant,  and  foreseeing  were  his  efforts.  No  internal 
abandonment,  no  external  neglect,  that  militated  against  the 
glorious  principles  which  he  believed,  and  we  believe,  must  ul- 
timately prevail,  escaped  his  reprehension.  The  extension  of 
suffrage,  the  instruction  of  the  lower  orders,  an  untrammelled 
press,  an  extension  of  the  privilege  of  jury, — the  meanness  and 
impolicy  of  refusing  assent  to  South  American  independence, 
bitter  denunciations  of  the  crusade  against  the  Spanish  Cortes, 
contemptuous  sarcasms  on  half-way  measures  for  the  establish- 
ment of  Greece,  execrations  on  peace  or  pact  with  the  crowned 


32 

Assassin  of  Portugal — these,  are  some  of  the  themes  with  which 
that  hall  resounded.  All  these  interests,  all  these  nations,  have 
reached,  or  are  rapidly  attaining,  the  position  he  desired  for  them. 

His  voice  was  not  unheard  or  unfelt  through  France  ;  though 
the  blindness  of  predestined  ruin  seemed  to  have  fallen  on  her 
Rulers.  The  appointment  of  the  last  ministry  gave  a  note  of 
warning ;  the  publication,  by  that  ministry,  of  the  ordonnances 
of  1830,  in  utter  violation  of  the  Charter,  formed  a  crisis  which, 
during  three  days,  drenched  the  streets  of  Paris  with  revolution- 
ary blood.  But  these  were  honourable  stains ;  drops  which  New 
England  might  have  shed. 

Did  we  not,  my  countrymen,  when  parting  with  Lafayette, 
feel  as  if  tendering  our  grateful  homage  to  a  veteran  whose  day 
of  usefulness  was  past  ?  Which  of  us  supposed  that  his  great 
hour  was  yet  in  store  ?  But  Providence  was  reserving  him  for 
a  ripened  time  ; — and  then  enabled  him,  by  the  mere  force  of 
personal  influence,  to  bestow  on  France  the  object  of  all  his 
sufferings,  toils,  and  vows ; — placed  in  his  hand  the  crown  of 
Capet,  and  gave  to  his  mouth  such  final  efficacy,  that  when  he 
said  to  Louis  Philippe,  "  Be  thou  a  Constitutional  King," — 
then,  and  not  till  then,  the  nation,  with  a  solemn  unity,  answered, 
Amen! 

These  are  facts  which  you  can  all  verify,  and  which  must  not 
be  accepted  as  pardonable  embellishments.  At  the  moment 
when  the  insurrection  became  victorious,  when  the  Bourbon 
was  unseated,  and  the  throne — as  a  bauble,  or  as  a  prize — was 
at  the  mercy  of  roused  and  clashing  parties — then,  along  with 
the  fears  of  anarchy,  came  recollections  of  that  Friend,  whom 
none  ever  sorrowed  for  having  trusted.  As  if  by  necromancy, 
the  National  Guard  started  into  being,  and  planted  their  stan- 
dards round  Lafayette.  Once  more,  as  on  the  great  day  of  the 
Federation,  he  suddenly  found  himself  at  the  head  of  the  whole 
military  of  the  kingdom.  Gladly  would  we  particularize,  glad- 
ly adduce  proofs,  which  are  abundant,  and  at  hand.  It  would 
be  easy  to  show  you  the  French  people,  like  men  come  to  their 
right  minds,  standing  before  him,  in  the  attitude  of  filial  rever- 


33 

ence ;  and  heaping  upon  him,  as  if  in  expiation  of  their  former 
abandonment,   every  honour,  trust,  and  token.     Many  came  to 
him  in  the  interval,  ere  the  establishment  of  the  government, 
and  entreated  him  to  assume  the  reins.     The  men  of  the  three 
days,  with  their  swords  smoking  in  their  hands,  besought  and 
besieged  him  to  be  their  president— now  to  found  their  long- 
desired,  long-despaired  of  Republic.     Here,  as  ever,  his  firm 
convictions  were  proof  against  mere  popular  desire,  as  well  as 
the  temptation  of  personal  aggrandizement.     We  could  show 
you  the  great  fundamental  principles  which  he  made  sure  of, 
while  the  power  was  in  his  hand.     We  could  enumerate  those 
rights  and  privileges  which  he  summed  up  in  the  phrase,  "A 
popular  throne  surrounded  by  republican  institutions" — which 
he  pledged  himself  to  the  yet  agitated  and  undecided  chiefs  to 
obtain  for  them — and  did  obtain — as  guaranties  which  the  Revo- 
lution had  a  right  to  exact. 

No  particular  allusion  is  necessary  to  the  course  of  politics 
under  the  new  government.  Differences  of  opinion  are  insepa- 
rable from  free  institutions,  and  Lafayette  was  too  wise  to  dream 
of  gratitude  from  politicians.  He  must  have  anticipated  jeal- 
ousies ;  and  after  having  insured  the  great  objects,  he  hastened 
to  retire  from  his  pre-eminence ;  but  not  from  his  humbler  sta- 
tion as  a  watchman  in  the  chamber  of  representatives.  There 
he  remained,  with  his  hand  upon  the  charter,  neither  to  be  se- 
duced, persuaded,  nor  deceived — dragging  into  the  clear  light 
of  common  sense  and  morality,  every  threatened  abandonment 
of  solemn  pledges ;  and  bringing  to  bear  on  the  rags  and  rem- 
nants of  old  prejudices  and  arbitrary  principles,  the  destructive 
focus  of  constitutional  illumination. 

It  may  be  just  noticed  as  we  pass,  that  at  the  breaking  out 
of  the  insurrection  in  Brussels,  the  Belgian  Deputies  succes- 
sively tendered  him  the  presidency  and  the  crown.  These 
overtures  were  treated  by  him  with  grateful  respect.  But  he 
advised  them  to  choose  the  head  of  their  government  from 
among  their  fellow  citizens ;  and  declared,  for  himself,  that  he 

5 


34 

believed  his  presence  in  France  more  useful  to  foreign  liberty 
than  it  could  be  elsewhere. 

This  is  the  man  whom  some  have  called  feeble — some  dan- 
gerous— whose  sincere  attachment  to  liberty  Pitt  denied  ;  whom 
Burke  accused  of  all  the  calamities  of  France ;  whom  Metter- 
nich,  Miguel,  and  others  less  consistent,  reviled  to  the  last  hour 
of  his  life,  and  would  defraud  of  the  honours  inseparable  from 
his  memory.  The  First  Consul  uttered  sometimes  emphatic 
truths.  He  once  said  to  Lafayette :  "  The  Despots  hate  us 
all,  but  the  hatred  they  bear  me  is  nothing  compared  to  that 
they  bear  you." 

That  high  proof  of  attachment  to  principles — the  disregard  of 
forms — was  strikingly  manifested  by  Lafayette.  He  was  ex- 
posed among  us  to  become  fanatically  republican — to  confound 
the  form  with  the  essence — like  some  of  our  spiritual  friends,  to 
stickle  for  the  Hierarchy  rather  than  for  God.  But  he  saw  the 
real  necessities  of  his  country,  and,  in  the  spirit  of  Christian  phi- 
lanthropy, laboured  to  supply  them  with  the  least  practicable 
hazard.  A  reformer  less  attached  to  liberty  would  have  ac- 
cepted nothing  short  of  a  Republic  :  he  refused  to  abandon  the 
Monarchy. 

Yet  the  philosophical  Burke,  whose  mind  could  dart  forward 
and  backward  with  so  sublime  a  ken,  overlooking  the  long 
course  of  tyranny,  prodigality,  and  vice,  which  had  corrupted, 
beggared  and  maddened  the  French  people,  lays  on  the  head 
of  Lafayette  the  crimes  of  the  Revolution.  If  fiction  is  poetry, 
here  are  claims  1  No  splendour  of  talent,  no  bursts  of  chival- 
rous feeling  over  the  sufferings  of  royalty  and  beauty,  should 
seduce  us  to  pardon  assertions  so  unfounded,  prejudices  so  mon- 
strous.— Why  have  all  nations  who  love  the  name  of  freedom, 
naturalized  him,  and  set  up  his  image  among  their  household 
gods  ? — Let  him  who  dare,  pronounce  his  condemnation  in  the 
mountain  fastness  of  the  Greek-^— or  in  the  market  place  of  War- 
saw. When  Poland,  who  had,  for  years,  sent  out  her  sons  to 
bleed  in  battles  of  Napoleon,  on  the  bare  hope  of  being  recom- 
penced  with  independence ;  encouraged  by  the  example,  and 


35 

decided  by  the  language  of  France,  drew  out  her  bruised  buck- 
ler, and  displayed,  once  more,  her  emblem,  to  whom  did  she 
cry  ?  to  whom  did  she  stretch  her  hands  for  aid  ?  And  when 
those  hordes,  nameless  and  accursed,  were  gathering  round  her 
falling  banner  and  her  dying  struggles,  whose  voice  rang  through 
the  French  Chambers  louder  than  the  shriek  of  Cassandra,  in- 
cessant and  unsparing  as  the  outcry  of  a  prophet — War !  war ! — 
for  the  preservation  of  a  betrayed  and  gallant  people,  for  the 
redemption  of  our  plighted  faith,  for  a  barrier  between  ourselves 
and  the  Barbarians  of  the  North. — The  charges  to  which  we 
have  been  alluding,  are  among  those  signal  falsities  which 
Statesmen,  to  serve  their  purpose  or  their  party,  sometimes 
dare  to  utter. 

Let  me  not,  by  these  remarks,  fall  under  the  suspicion  of  in- 
tending disrespect  to  England,  or  her  illustrious  men.  Such  a 
motive  is  earnestly  abjured.  She  is  our  Parent : — her  cliffs 
guarded  our  Ark  and  Candlestick  : — and  were  she  not — we 
would  not  disparage  that  marvellous  Island,  whose  power  stands 
on  its  narrow  base  like  an  inverted  Pyramid ;  whose  grapples 
take  hold  at  the  four  winds ;  and  whose  battle-ships  collect  like 
the  monsters  of  the  Deep.  But  that  energetic  nation  has  been 
obliged  to  acknowledge  us  to  be  "  bone  of  her  bone  ;"  and  in 
arriving  at  that  conviction,  events  have  happened  grating  to  her 
pride.  She  has  been  our  mistress  and  superior ;  we  have  be- 
come her  emancipated  equal : — Profiting  by  her  history  and 
laws,  we  have  constructed  a  system,  varying  from  hers,  but  be- 
lieved by  many  to  be  better  adapted  to  the  present  wants  and 
future  exigencies  of  man.  Boastful  of  her  freedom,  she  sud- 
denly beholds  a  nation,  with  a  broader  charter  than  her  own  ; 
dominant  on  the  sea,  she  finds  a  competitor  who  challenges 
comparisons  ;  all-grasping  in  her  commerce,  she  meets  keels 
not  surmounted  by  the  cross  of  St.  George  in  every  haven  of 
the  globe :  her  own  people  clamour,  and  she  is  compelled  to 
reform  after  our  model :  they  forsake  her,  and  our  bosom  is 
open  to  receive  them.  Hence  the  rancour  of  that  party  which 
stands  sentinel  on  her  old  institutions,  and  whose  business  it  is 


36 

to  cry  down  the  principles  and  men  of  an  adverse  spirit.     Hence 
the  temper  of  part  of  her  periodical  press,  and  the  derisive 
babbling  of  her  tourists.     Were  we  only  philosophical  enough 
to  apply  to  nations  the  individual  traits  of  human  nature,  instead 
of  irritation,  all  these  things  would  cause  complacency ;   as 
proofs  of  the  aspect,  to  transatlantic  eyes,  of  our  horoscope, 
whose  figures  and  fortunes  those  watchful  Sages   are  never 
weary  of  casting.     These  considerations  borne  in  mind,  might 
serve  to  rectify  our  opinions,  and  our  temper,  when  studying  a 
certain  class  of  British  writers.     But,  though  self-respect,  and 
self-reliance,  are  laudable  and  wise,  we  would  not  commend  to 
imitation  those  who  make  a  premature  vaunt  of  our  institutions, 
and  act  as  if  already  authorized  to  state  injurious  contrasts. — 
When  our  Constitution  shall  have  been  proved  by  the  changes 
of  as  many  centuries ;  been  buffetted  by  as  many  civil  commo- 
tions and  external  wars  ;  or,  when  the  unknown  perils,  (what- 
ever they  may  be,)  wrapped  up  in  a  thousand  years,  shall  have 
discharged  their  bolts — if  then,  our  Oak,  like  the  British,  bear 
aloft  its  unscathed  head, — let  those  who  sit  under  its  shadow 
look  back,  and  praise  the  brave  and  wise  who  planted,  the  faith- 
ful and  eloquent  who  defended.     We  would  not  speak  the  lan- 
guage of  discouragement,  but  must  acknowledge  that  a  shade 
has  fallen  on  the  bright  anticipation  which  once  broke  from  an 
exulting  heart  when  contemplating  the  work  of  our  fathers  and 
founders : 

They  were  the  Watchmen  by  an  Empire's  cradle, 
Whose  youthful  sinews  show  like  Rome's ; 
Whose  head  tempestuous  rears  the  ice-encrusted  cap, 
Sparkling  with  Polar  splendours,  while  her  skirts 
Catch  perfumes  from  the  Isles ;  whose  Trident,  yet, 
Must  awe  in  either  ocean ;  whose  strong  hand 
Freedom's  immortal  banner  grasps,  and  waves 
Its  starry  promise  o'er  the  envying  world. 

The  province  of  our  day  is  not  to  boast,  but  to  be  watchful ; — 
severely  to  measure  our  public  servants  by  the  patterns  of  a 
purer  time  ; — to  see  that  the  life  of  our  institutions  does  not 
perish  by  a  spurious  administration  of  them  ;  and  that  we  re- 


37 

main  not,  like  blind  enthusiasts,  with  the  corpse  of  the  Consti- 
tution in  our  embraces.  Is  this  the  feeling  in  which  we  dis- 
charge the  duties  of  our  trust  ?  Are  the  tests  of  ability,  and 
fidelity,  unsparingly  applied  to  public  men  ?  Are  party  interests, 
state  heresies,  sectional  cabals,  and  all  merely  base  and  selfish 
considerations,  trodden  under  foot,  while  our  eyes  are  glancing 
forward  to  the  good  of  all,  and  upward  for  the  approbation  of 
Heaven  ? — Without  such  a  spirit  we  have  no  right  to  anticipate 
perpetuity. — Without  virtue  there  cannot  be  happiness.  Is 
there,  or  is  there  not,  a  falling  off  ? — Does  the  noble  and  self- 
sacrificing  character  of  our  early  day  harmonize  with  the  spirit 
of  these  times  ? 

That  political  virtue  is  not  a  phantom, — a  mere  phrase  of 
cabala,  for  the  use  of  demagogues, — but  a  reality,  powerful, 
and,  at  last,  prevalent  in  great  affairs,  is  a  truth  emphatically 
taught  by  the  life  of  Lafayette  ; — and  forms  its  appropriate 
moral. 

Men  of  greater  intellectual  force,  though  none  of  truer  saga- 
city, figured  with  him  on  the  theatre  of  Europe.  Where  are 

they  ? — and  where  is  the  testimony  of  their  works  ? Behold 

the  greatest  of  them  all ! — His  car  is  unharnessed — his  monu- 
ments are  crumbling — his  land-marks  are  removed — his  blood 
is  extinct : — the  hecatombs  which  strewed  his  path  have,  at 
best,  served  only  to  prepare  the  ground  for  the  growth  of  prin- 
ciples at  variance  with  the  whole  spirit  of  his  life. 

Finally ;  in  connection  with  the  future,  let  us  not  magnify 
ourselves,  but  our  office — as  Pilots,  and  Discoverers,  in  seas 
which  the  Ancient  world  could  never  navigate ;  let  us  bear  al- 
way  in  mind,  that  on  our  faithful  soundings,  and  constant  watch, 
the  universal  weal  depends.  Our  flag,  yet  flying  in  advance 
of  the  convoy  of  Nations,  is  regarded  by  those  who  follow,  as 
their  light  and  guide  :  if  shallows,  rocks,  or  mutiny,  destroy  us, 
the  region  of  our  stranded  wreck  is  one  wThich  no  political  Co- 
lumbus will  dare  hereafter  to  explore. 


NOTE. 


As  a  sample  of  the  state  of  things  in  France,  before  and  after  the  Revolu- 
tion of  '89,  take  the  following  passages. 

"  Before  the  Revolution,  the  land  in  France  was  held  by  various  tenures, 
almost  all  of  which  were  decidedly  and  extremely  unfavourable  to  agricul- 
ture. The  manor  rents  of  the  clergy  have  been  variously  estimated.  Con- 
dorcet,  in  his  Life  of  Turgot,  gives  it  as  his  opinion,  that  the  clergy  enjoyed 
near  a  fifth  part  of  the  property  of  the  kingdom.  Neckar  calculated  their 
revenue  at  130,000,000  livres;  but  it  is  probable  that  their  manor  rents  may 
fairly  be  estimated  to  have  amounted  to  about  120,000,000  of  livres,  or 
4,800,0002.  sterling,  exclusive  of  their  tithes,  which  may  be  rated  at  about 
3,600,0002.  sterling.  The  domains  of  the  crown  and  of  the  princes  of  the 
blood,  rented  for  about  1,200,0002.  sterling;  the  feudal  and  honorary  dues 
paid  to  the  nobility,  with  corvdes,  militia,  &c.  amounted  at  least  to  5,000,0002. 
sterling.  Besides,  the  government  drew  from  the  produce  of  agriculture  the 
sum  of  8,000,0002.  sterling.  In  short,  it  has  been  calculated,  that,  exclusive 
of  .the  rents  of  land  paid  to  the  lay-proprietors,  and  of  the  duties  of  excise, 
consumption,  and  the  like,  the  produce  of  the  soil  was  charged  annually  with 
upwards  of  21,000,0002.  sterling. 

"  But  agriculture  laboured  under  disadvantages  still  more  discouraging 
and  oppressive  previously  to  the  Revolution ;  to  understand  and  estimate 
which,  it  will  be  necessary  to  consider  the  different  modes  of  occupying 
land.  IB  the  first  place,  there  were  the  small  properties  of  the  peasants." 
These  are  stated  to  have  been  scattered  about  in  a  degree  hardly  to  be  ex- 
pected, "in  the  midst  of  the  enormous  possessions  and  oppressive  privileges 
of  the  nobility  and  clergy,"  but  so  minutely  divided,  that  "  poverty  and  mis- 
ery were  too  visible." 

L"  The  second  mode  of  possessing  land  was  by  a  money  rent."  "  These 
tenures,  upon  a  moderate  estimate,  before  the  Revolution,  did  not  exist  in 
more  than  a  sixth  or  a  seventh  of  the  kingdom. 

"  Feudal  tenures  were  the  third  mode  of  occupying  land,  and  they  were 
scattered  in  a  greater  or  less  degree  through  the  whole  kingdom.  These 
feudal  tenures  were  fiefs  granted  by  the  seigneurs  of  the  parishes,  under  a 
reservation  of  fines,  quit  rents,  forfeitures,  services,  &c.  As  they  formed  the 
most  oppressive  evil  under  which  agriculture  labored  previously  to  the  Revo- 
lution, and  from  which  that  event  must  certainly  be  allowed  the  merit  of  hav- 
ing freed  it,  it  may  be  proper  to  notice  some  of  them.  Even  to  enumerate 
the  whole  of  these  oppressions  would  far  exceed  our  limits;  and  indeed,  the 
English  language  does  not  supply  terms  by  which  many  of  them  can  be  ex- 
pressed. 

"  Among  the  more  mild  and  tolerable  of  these  feudal  tenures,  maybe  men- 
tioned the  obligation  the  tenant  was  under,  of  grinding  his  corn  at  the  mills 
of  the  seigneur  only;  of  pressing  his  grapes  at  his  press  only;  of  baking  his 
bread  in  his  oven.  The  peasantry  in  Brittany  were  obliged  to  beat  the  wa- 
ters in  marshy  districts,  to  keep  the  frogs  silent,  in  order  that  the  lady  of  the 
seigneur,  during  her  lying-in,  might  not  be  disturbed  by  their  noise.  In 
short,  every  petty  oppression  which  could  render  the  lives  of  the  peasantry 
miserable,  or  interfere  with  the  operations  of  agriculture,  was  authorised  by 
these  feudal  tenures;  though  it  must  be  confessed,  that,  before  the  Revolu- 
tion, some  of  the  seigneurs,  convinced  of  their  injustice  as  well  as  impolicy, 
forebore  to  exact  them.  Nor  were  the  oppressions  of  the  feudal  tenures  the 
only  ones  to  which  agriculture  was  exposed.  There  were  numerous  edicts 
for  preserving  the  game,  which  prohibited  weeding  and  hoeing,  lest  the 
young  partridges  should  be  disturbed;  steeping  seed,  lest  it  should  injure  the 


39 

game ;  manuring  with  night  soil,  lest  the  flavour  of  the  partridges  should  be 
injured,  by  feeding  on  the  corn  so  produced;  mowing  hay  before  a  certain 
time,  (so  late  as  to  spoil  many  crops;)  and  taking  away  the  stubble,  which 
would  deprive  the  birds  of  shelter.  These  were  oppressions,  to  which  all 
the  tenants  of  land,  as  well  as  those  who  held  under  feudal  tenures,  and  even 
the  proprietors  of  land,  in  many  cases,  were  exposed.  The  latter,  indeed, 
were  dreadfully  tormented  by  what  were  called  the  Capitainries,  which,  as 
affecting  them  in  some  measure,  as  the  feudal  tenures  affected  the  farmers, 
may  be  noticed  under  this  head.  By  this  term  was  to  be  understood,  the 
paramountship  of  certain  districts,  granted  by  the  king  to  princes  of  the 
blood,  by  which  they  were  put  in  possession  of  the  property  of  all  game, 
even  on  lands  which  did  not  belong  to  them,  and  even  on  manors  granted 
long  before  to  individuals ;  so  that  by  this  paramountship  all  manorial  rights 
were  annihilated.  The  privileges  thus  conferred,  were  most  grievous  and 
oppressive;  for  by  game  was  understood,  whole  droves  of  wild  boars,  and 
herds  of  deer  not  confined,  but  wandering  over  the  whole  couutry,  to  the 
destruction  of  the  crops;  and  if  any  person  presumed  to  kill  them,  he  was 
liable  to  be  sent  to  the  gallies.  It  may  easily  be  conceived,  that  the  minute 
vexations,  as  well  as  the  more  prominent  tyrannies,  to  which  the  feudal  ten- 
ures gave  rise,  would  occasion  frequent  disputes  between  the  seigneur  and 
his  tenants;  but  the  latter  preferred  submitting  to  them,  rather  than  appeal- 
ing to  the  decision  of  judges,  who  were  absolutely  dependant  on  the  seigneurs. 
"We  may  here  also  notice  the  corvtes,*  as  one  of  the  taxes  peculiarly  op- 
pressive and  injurious  to  agriculture,  though  not  confined  to  the  tenure  we 
are  now  considering.  By  the  corvdes,  individuals  were  obliged  to  mend  the 
roads  by  their  personal  labour;  hence  it  is  evident  that  this  tax  must  have 
fallen  exclusively  on  the  poor ;  or  if  it  was  performed  by  those  who  kept  la- 
bourers, it  must  have  deprived  them  of  the  means  of  fully  attending  to  their 
agricultural  operations.  This  tax  was  not  only  impolitic,  in  BO  much  as  it 
placed  the  repair  of  the  roads  under  the  care  of  those  who  were  totally  des- 
titute of  the  little  skill  requisite  for  such  a  task,  but  it  was  an  easy  engine  of 
oppression  ;  for,  under  the  pretence  that  the  work  might  be  done  without  in- 
terruption, those  who  were  liable  to  the  cortie  had  it  frequently  allotted  to 
them  at  some  leagues  from  their  habitations.  Besides  these  corvees,  which 
were  an  oppression  to  agriculture  over  the  whole  of  France,  there  were  the 
military  carries,  which  fell  only  on  the  villages  lying  in  the  route  of  the 
troops;  the  inhabitants  of  which  were  obliged  to  leave  their  occupation, 
however  inconvenient  and  injurious  it  might  be,  and  repair  the  roads  along 
which  the  soldiers  were  to  travel.  Such  are  a  few  of  the  oppressions  under 
which  agriculture  in  France  laboured,  previously  to  the  Revolution,  arising 
either  from  the  feudal  tenures,  or  from  the  more  general  operation  of  the 
laws  and  measures  of  government,  the  privileges  of  the  nobility  and  clergy, 
and  the  usages  of  the  country. 

"  The  fourth  mode  of  occupying  land,  resembled  that  which  is  common  m 
Ireland,  and  which  is  there  complained  of  as  a  great  grievance,  and  as  the 
source  of  much  misery  and  oppression.  Men  possessed  of  some  property, 
hired  great  tracts  of  land  at  a  money  rent,  and  relet  it  in  small  divisions  to 
metayers,  who  paid  half  the  produce." 

"  The  last  tenure  was  that  of  the  metayer.  These  are  a  species  of  farmers, 
who  gradually  succeeded  the  slave  cultivatory  of  ancient  times,  and  who  (m 
Latin,  called  coloni  partiarii)  have  been  so  long  in  disuse  in  England,  that 
there  is  no  English  name  for  them.  They  may  be  generally  described,  as 
supplying  the  labour  necessary  to  cultivate  the  land,  while  the  proprietor 
furnished  them  with  the  seed,  cattle,  and  instruments  of  husbandry, 
fore  the  Revolution,  seven  eighths  of  the  lands  in  France  were  held  under 
this  tenure;"  i.e.  under  some  one  of  its  various  forms.  "It  is  scarcely 
necessary  to  point  out  the  miserable  state  of  agriculture,  where  the  sys- 
tem of  metaying  prevails.  In  the  first  place,  it  proves  a  lamentable 

*  Corvee,  a  service  due  by  a  tenant  to  a  landlord. 


40 

ciency  of  agricultural  capital ;  and  in  the  second,  it  has  a  manifest  tendency 
to  perpetuate  this  evil,  and  to  keep  the  tenant  in  the  lowest  state  of  depen- 
dence, miserj',  and  poverty.  In  some  parts  of  France,  the  metayers  were 
so  poor,  and  consequently  so  dependent  on  their  landlords,  that  they  were 
almost  every  year  obliged  to  borrow  from  them  their  bread,  before  the  har- 
vest came  round. 

"  Such  were  the  tenures  of  land  before  the  Revolution.  Let  us  now  en- 
quire what  effects  that  event  has  produced  on  them,  and  on  the  condition  of 
the  agricultural  class  in  general. 

"  In  the  first  place,  the  number  of  small  properties  have  been  considerably 
increased  in  all  parts  of  France.  The  national  domains,  which  consisted  of 
the  confiscated  estates  of  the  church  and  emigrant  nobility,  were  exposed  to 
sale  during  the  pecuniary  distresses  of  the  revolutionary  government.  For 
the  accommodation  of  the  lowest  order  of  purchasers,  they  were  divided  into 
small  portions,  and  five  years  were  allowed  for  completing  the  payment.  In 
consequence  of  this  indulgence,  and  of  the  depreciation  of  assignats,  the 
poorest  classes  of  the  peasantry  were  enabled  to  become  proprietors,  possess- 
ing from  one  to  ten  acres." 

"  In  the  second  place,  hiring  at  money  rent  is  much  more  general  since  the 
Revolution  ;  and  if  France  continues  quiet,  and  recovers  from  the  injurious 
consequences  of  the  Revolution,  it  may  reasonably  be  expected  that  this  spe- 
cies of  tenure  will  become  more  and  more  prevalent. 

"  In  the  third  place,  feudal  tenures  are  done  away,  as  well  as  tythes,  game 
laws,  eorvees,  &c.  In  some  parts,  however,  the  tenants,  by  their  covenants 
with  their  landlords,  are  still  bound  to  perform  some  services,  but  by  the  law, 
they  must  be  entirely  of  an  agricultural  description. 

"In  the  fourth  place,  the  two  other  species  of  tenure,  that  is,  monopoly, 
where  men  of  property  hired  great  tracts  of  land  at  a  money-rent,  and  relet 
it  in  small  divisions,  and  the  system  of  metaying,  still  exist,  though  not  near- 
ly to  such  an  extent,  or  in  such  an  oppressive  and  ruinous  form,  as  before  the 
Revolution.  Indeed,  when  we  consider  that  these  species  of  tenure  were  the 
unavoidable  and  necessary  consequences  of  inadequate  agricultural  capital, 
we  cannot  expect  that  they  should  be  abolished  by  the  mere  operation  01  law, 
or  by  the  direct  effects  of  any  revolution,  however  wisely  planned  and  car- 
ried into  execution.  If,  however,  we  find  that  they  gradually  die  away, 
which  seems  to  be  the  case,  we  may  safely  and  rationally  maintain,  that  the 
Revolution,  besides  the  direct  benefits  which  it  has  bestowed  on  agriculture, 
by  the  abolition  of  feudal  tenures,  and  partial  and  oppressive  taxes,  has  in- 
directly proved  advantageous  to  this  first  of  all  arts,  by  placing  in  the  hands 
of  those  who  pursue  it  more  adequate  capital. 

"  Such  are  the  benefits  which  the  Revolution  has  conferred  on  the  agricul- 
ture of  France,  and  which  have  manifested  themselves,  notwithstanding  the 
military  despotism  which,  after  exhausting  and  weakening  her  for  the  pur- 
pose of  enslaving  the  continent  of  Europe,  has  at  length  brought  down  upon 
her  a  just  retribution  for  her  too  ready  acquiescence  in  its  schemes.  These, 
however,  are  only  partial  and  temporary  evils ;  and  we  may  confidently  pre- 
dict, that  when  they  are  passed  away,  the  agriculture  of  France,  which,  from 
her  excellent  climate  and  easily  worked  soil,  must  always  be  the  staple 
branch  of  her  national  industry,  and  the  principal  source  from  which  she 
must  draw  her  political  influence  and  military  power,  will  be  found  to  have 
come  out  from  the  ordeal  purified  and  refined,  and  the  condition  of  her  agri- 
cultural population  in  every  respect  greatly  ameliorated." — New  Edinburgh, 
Encyclopedia,  second  American  edition,  Vol.  IX,  pp.  405,6,7. 


